


Side by Side with a (Boy)Friend

by sp1lt_1nk



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle Injuries, Bisexual Kíli, Caring Bilbo Baggins, Durin Family, Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Elves are Dicks, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gold Sick Thorin, Gore, Heavy Angst, Infection, Kili and Arden are bow and arrow boyfriends, M/M, Near Death Experiences, No Incest, Poison, Prison, Sassy Bilbo Baggins, Sick Character, Thorin Is Not Amused, Uncle Thorin, Vomit, author is a medical nerd, bisexual legolas, how I wish Kili and Tauriel's romance thing went with my own angsty gay twist, i love that that's a tag, just the usual, kili and fili are just brothers, mild organ failure, my elf guy is just fucked, septicemia (blood infection/ poisoning), seriously you guys are gross, slight Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, the Master (hobbit), y'know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 04:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp1lt_1nk/pseuds/sp1lt_1nk
Summary: Instead of meeting Tauriel, the company of Thorin Oakensheild meet Arden, an elf who has been cast out by his kin. after saving the dwarves lives, they return the favor after Bilbo pulls the injured and half drowned elf out of the river. Everything seems fine exept instead of Kili getting shot, Arden hides the fact that the arrow had found a different mark.this story basically is the gay version of what I wish happened in the movie (eccept with way more injury, pain, and basic angst)





	1. A Half drowned Elf

Bilbo’s weary feet had carried him much further than he could have ever imagined. The hobbit swore if he took one step more his toes would fall off. Oh how he longed to just sit down and take a quick nap, so that is exactly what he did. The rest of the dwarves wandered around in the forest of Mirkwood, desperately trying to find the stone path as Bilbo started to drift off. The dense forest air filled Bilbo’s lungs with each breath and as his eyelids fluttered shut he dreamed of his snug and cozy hobbit hole. It seemed so long ago that he has races out of his his home after the party of dwarves and the wizard gandalf. Far too long ago. 

Bilbo awoke with a start to the sound of someone yelling. The exhausted hobbit was on his feet in an instant but he found himself very disoriented when he was fully upright. He shook his head to clear whatever residual fog was left from his sleep. He heard someone else yell out again and he recognized the voice of Thorin’s youngest nephew, Kili. Bilbo slipped on his ring without realizing as he dashed toward the sounds of dwarves yelling and the clang of metal. Brandishing his own sword, or rather his oversized dagger, Bilbo ran into the forest, blindly following the sounds of his fellow companions. A sharp creaking of branches was heard overhead and as Bilbo looked up his heart stopped. He stumbled to a stop, his feet losing traction on the fallen leaves of the forest. The largest spider Bilbo had ever seen lumbered through the trees above him. Immediately Bilbo tried to slip on his ring, but he found it already on his finger. He had no time to think how strange that was as the spider skittered through the branches towards the yelling dwarves. 

Bilbo followed it only to see Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the mountain, be stabbed by the enormous stinger of a huge spider. Biblo dropped his sword to clasp both hands over his mouth to keep from crying out. All the other dwarves were piled in a heap, covered in spider silk as thick as a child’s wrist. A sob wrenched its way out of Bilbo’s throat and through his trembling fingers. At the sound one of the spiders, one of several Bilbo noticed, turned to look at him. It couldn't see him, as he had the ring on, but Bilbo felt his breath freeze in his throat. He dared not breathe as the spider came closer.

“I heard something… are there more?” it said and Bilbo stumbled back. He could hear the spiders voice in his head. He could understand it.

“See! The leaves move and I hear breath! There is another dwarf nearby!"

The other spiders hissed with joy and a few of them left the pile of dwarves in search of new prey.

“Oh, so juicy and warm. We should eat them while they’re fresh,” one of the spiders sang as its jaws pinch in anticipation. “We haven't feasted for many nights.”

“Oh yes! Feast! Feast!” another spider chanted. The spider closest to Bilbo scuttled back to its brothers and sisters. 

“Their skins are thick but the flesh underneath is still good. Yes, we will feast tonight.” 

Bilbo was suddenly taken over by anger. How dare these… these arachnids talk about his friends like that! He picked up his sword and charged clumsily with fury at a spider who had its back turned to him. With a cry he jammed his blade into its backside. The spider let out at screech of pain and fury.

“It stings! It stings!” it cried as the other spiders turned quickly to face the invisible threat.

“Where is it?” one screeched.

“I do not see anything!” another one shrieked before bilbo stuck his blade in its eye. The noise that asualuted bilbo’s ears almost made him drop his sword again, but he held fast and pushed his blade deeper into the spider.

“Meet sting, you miserable creatures!” he yelled as he yanked his sword out of the spider’s eye. The spider curled in on itself as it writhed in pain.

“A voice! A voice in the shadows,” one of the spiders whispered as it cowered against its web. “Kill it! Find it and devour it!”

Now there were more spiders and Bilbo found himself overwhelmed with the sheer number of them. He slipped as he tried to back away. A spider sharply turned to look in his direction, rushing closer. 

“It is here! Find it! Avenge our brothers!” it cried as snapped its large fangs.

The spider ran in the direction of bilbo but before its large jaws could find his flesh an arrow stuck itself in its eye. The spider screamed as Bilbo hastily backed away from it and pressed himself against a tree. 

Arrow after arrow assaulted the spiders . Bilbo could only watch as he regained his footing, fearful that if he moved he would either be trampled by spiders or struck with an arrow.

At last the spiders retreated back into their webs, so thick that the arrows could no longer harm them. A dark shape dropped down from the trees, clothed in black and dark green. Biblo could almost swear that it was an elf, but why would the elves come to rescue a party of dwarves and an single hobbit? Bilbo was about to take off his ring and introduce himself when a low groan sounded from the pile of dwarves. The elf, or whoever it was, drew a blade, looking ready to attack. Soon the whole bunch of dwarves were thrashing and trying to free themselves from their bindings. The black clad figure seemed about to approach when there was a slight rustle of leaves. Bilbo paid no attention to it but the figure stiffened and then climbed hastilly back up a tree and was gone from sight. Not sooner has he vanished when elves, not hidden by dark fabric, surround the pile of dwarves, arrows ready to strike.

“Surely these pathetic dwarves couldn't have killed these creatures,” one elf said, kicking the dead spider with his foot. 

“No, these are elven arrows,” a blond elf said then yelled loudly in a tongue Bilbo could not understand. Immediately a group of elves sheathed their arrows then forcefully pulled the dwarves to their feet and searched them for weapons.

“Check them thoroughly, these are dwarves. They always have more weapons,” the blond elf said loudly as his men stripped the dwarves of all their possessions. A wave of anger and hostility clawed its way into Bilbo’s heart as he thought about the elves searching him. they would surely have taken his ring. A growl worked its way up his throat. No, the elves would never hold his ring in their grasp unless they pried it out of his cold, dead hands. He shook himself. He was safe and none of the elves had seemed to notice him. He was invisible for heaven's sake!

Once every last weapon had been discarded in a pile the elves lead the cursing, thrashing dwarves out of the forest. Bilbo followed closely behind, just barely managing to slip inside with the party of elves into the great halls of King Thranduil. 

The dwarves were locked up and for many days as Bilbo tried to figure out how to free them. He watched on the first say they all got fevers and threw up the venom injected into their blood by the spiders. On the fifth day all the dwarves had recovered and were annoyed out of their minds. Eventually after a few more days a party was to be held and much wine was ordered for the feast. Then, upon the night of the grand festival, Bilbo saw his opportunity. He stole the keys to the prison cells when the guard elf had passed out from drink. With all the guards either passed out or at the feast Bilbo quietly led the dwarves, as quietly as one could lead a group of dwarves, to the cellar where empty barrels of wine waited to be sent off down the river.

“Why are you leading us here? We need to get out of this foul place!” Fili complained as the hobbit led them down the stairs to the cellar.

“Fili,” Thorin said sternly as he brought up the rear of the group, silencing his eldest nephew. 

“I promise you I know what i'm doing. you must trust me.” Bilbo said, frustrated by the lack of trust from the dwarves.

Finally they reached the cellar and the dwarves were careful not to wake the elves who had fallen asleep at their post.

“Quickly! Into the barrels!” Bilbo hissed, trying to shove the dwarves closer to the barrels.

“We cannot just hide from the elves! Surely they’ll find us!” Ori whispered loudly. One of the elves stirred in his sleep and every dwarf and Bilbo ceased to breathe for fear he would wake up.

“No, no I swear they will not. Please just trust me,” Bilbo said at last after the elf sighed and fell back into a deep slumber. Bilbo looked to Thorin, pleading silent that the King would trust him enough to listen.

“Do as he says,” Thorin said after a moment of deep thought. 

There was a scrambling of limbs and hushed complaints as every dwarf squeezed himself into a barrel.

“Now what, _master burglar_?” Dwalin said in a mocking tone. 

However Bilbo didn’t reply, for he had heard the shouts of elves and was hastily pulling the lever that opened up the floorboards to the raging river below.

“Hold your breath,” he said quietly as the barrels started to roll.

The dwarves yelled with the sudden rolling and drop from the elven cellar into the frigid water of the river. Bilbo ran after the tumbling barrels and slipped through the false floor just as it started to close. He cursed at the splinter in he feet before the breath was pulled from his lungs as he hit the water.

A strong hand pulled him back to the surface and Bilbo spluttered coughed up the water in his lungs. He looked up to see Thorin smiling as he had when Kili and Fili had tried to reenact the encounter with the tree mountain trolls.

“Well done, master Baggins. You only prove your usefulness again and again,” Thorin’s tone took on that of the one he had used after dismounting the eagles. Bilbo found himself smiling until water splashed in his face and made him cough again. Thorin pulled him up until Bilbo's hands could grab onto the rim on the barrel. Thorin kept a good hold on him nonetheless and for that Bilbo was thankful; He had never been a fan of swimming.

All seemed well until a horn sounded and the shouts of elves could be heard over the deafining sound of the water. Thorin groaned and tightened his hold on Bilbo’s collar. 

“Get ready, master Baggins. The fun has only begun.”

The barrels containing the dwarves continued down the river at a sickening pace but then suddenly there was a bridge that crossed the river. Through the spray of water and lurching movements Bilbo could see a gate being closed, blocking their path to freedom. The sopping wet dwarf King muttered something that sounded harsh and unforgiving.

“What did you say?” Bilbo asked at they neared the gate.

“Ish kakhfê ai’d dur rugnu,” Thorin repeated, his expression showed pure hate. “I tell the King of these fowl elves that I spit upon his grave. Let him rot in his own kingdom surrounded by his petty walls.”

“Oh,” was all Bilbo could muster as he watched helplessly as they drifted towards the shut gate, now fully blocking their way. Bilbo was squished against Thorin's barrel as the rest of the barrels all came to a stop, bashing into each other in the narrowed channel right before the gate.

“There’s a lever!” Kili yelled to the rest of the dwarves, hoisting himself out of his barrel and onto the stone banks by the bridge. Just then, where Kili had been seconds before, an arrow struck the wooden barrel with a loud _thwunk_ sound.

Bilbo cursed under his breath as he watched elves dash along both sides of the river, they were thoroughly outnumbered. He was about to slip on his ring once again when suddenly huge dark figures thundered out from the bushes. Orcs. 

Thorin tightened his hold on Bilbo’s collar. “Say close, halfing.”

Bilbo was too shocked by the sight of orcs slaughtering elves to correct Thorin’s _halfling_ to _hobbit_. He watched with wide eyes as the orcs seem to winning the fight one second and then the elves the next. A swift shadow caught his eye, a goblin perhaps? It moved far too quickly to be an orc. The shadow leapt onto the back of an orc and stabbed it with a small knife it drew from beneath its cloak. An elf then. All at once memories from the forest flooded back to Bilbo and he realized this was the same elf as the one who had killed the spiders.

The elf seemed to find its target, an orc with bits of metal sticking out from its skin. The orc held a bow that was pulled tight, aiming his shot. Bilbo followed the path the arrow would take and found Kili, who had found a weapon, fighting his way to the lever. Before the orc could let the arrow fly the elf tackled it, breaking the bow in the process. The orc let out a grunt before slamming the elf to the ground. By now many of the orcs had fallen and only a few remained, being picked off by the elves. however, no arrows flew to save the elf, now being held by the throat by the metal clad orc. 

There was a grinding of metal and then the gates withholding the dwarves opened. Just before the barrels started to push forward Kili jumped into the rushing water with a loud whoop as he tucked his knees to his body before he hit the water and created a huge splash. 

As Bilbo and Thorin started to pick up speed down the river Bilbo could see the elf from the forest and the huge orc. The orc threw the elf to the ground again and then picked something, a thick black arrow, from the ground. The orc then swung his arm down and stabbed the elf, sending an anguished cry of pain ringing over the water that made Bilbo shiver. The orc then picked up the elf and threw him into the river, his dark cloak vanishing under the frothy, white water. 

“Take that you filthy elves!” Dwalin yelled before he went under. When he resurfaced his beard was drenched and he scowled furiously as if that would keep mother nature from getting him wet again.

Not long into their journey Bilbo began to feel nauseous. He tried to keep down his feeble supper of stolen elven bread, but finally the churning of his stomach and the bobbing of the water turned his hand for him. Thorin firmly held him as he wretched, looking both worried and disgusted. Bilbo was then hoisted into Kili’s empty barrel with the help of some of the dwarves floating nearby Thorin. Eventually the river slowed and they had to paddle to shore. The poor hobbit looked like a drowned mouse, his hair, sopping wet, layed flat against his head and his clothes were absolutely sodden with water. None of the other dwarves looked much better. Fili was busy inspecting Kili after his brave but foolish stunt. 

“Are you sure you're not hurt?” Fili said softly so only his brother could hear.

“I think I have a cut on my side, but it doesn't feel like anything serious. I'm fine, brother.”

Fili insisted on checking the cut anyway, dragging his brother after him to the water's edge to try and clean away the blood. 

“Oin! Does this wound need stitching?” Fili called to the old dwarf who was hard of hearing and didn't hear him. Balin, who had heard Fili, marched the elderly dwarf to where the two younger sat on the rocks, the cold water lapping at their calves.

“Are you well, master Baggins?” Thorin's deep voice drew Bilbo's gaze sharply away from the young dwarves. 

“Yes, I believe I shall be just fine,” he said, face flushed with embarrassment.

Both his and Thorin's attention was drawn to the pained noises of the youngest dwarf of the party. Oin had deemed the cut deep enough to need stitches and was just starting as Kili sagged against his brother, exhausted and pained.

then, out of the corner of his eye, Bilbo saw something dark in the water, a shape seemed to be caught on the rocks in the middle of the river. His first thought was the body of an orc had drifted down the river, but then he remembered the elf from the forest. 

Bilbo found himself stumbling over the rocky shore with haste as he splashed through the shallow water to the miserable creature. If it was an orc the body would be leftor pushed futhe downstream, but if it was indeed an elf…

“Bilbo!” someone called out but Bilbo was already trying to turn the large figure over to get a look at his face. He felt his heart sink as he realized the material under his fingers was not of orc kind, but the delicate fingers of elves. Hastily Bilbo held the elf’s head out of the water. He heard splashing from behind him and was met with the furrowed expressions of Thorin and Dwalin.

“A dead elf. Not much we can do, laddie.” Balin said, catching up to the small group. Oin was finishing Kili's stitches so he was of little use.

“And why should we do anything? The elves shot at us. If he were alive he would not deserve our help,” Thorin growled, marching back to the shore with the other two dwarves. But Bilbo stayed, cradling the drowned elf in his lap. The elf did not breathe but soon his chest started to hitch and his body convulsed.

“He lives! We must help him!” Bilbo cried, rolling the elf onto his side so that the water that trickled out of his mouth would not choke him. When the elf had stopped trying bring up the water in his lungs Bilbo tried with all his might to haul the elf back to shore.

He felt himself lose his footing on the slippery rocks and the elf was dunked back under the water. Bilbo quickly regained his footing and continued heaving the elf though the water.

“No! No no no!” Bilbo said, voice filled with sadness as the elf's head lolled to the side, the creature’s body heavy in the water. Thorin felt a part of him let go of his anger for a moment. inspired by the hobbit's compassion, he waded back into the river to scoop the limp elf out of Bilbo’s arms. 

Immediately Oin and Balin were trying to force the water out of the elfs lungs. 

“Thorin, compress his chest right here,” Balin said as he tilted the elf's head back and blew air into his lungs. The old dwarf soon found himself winded from exhaustion and lack of air. He signaled for someone else to take care of feeding the elf breath. Bilbo himself was about to step up but Kili beat him to it. The young dwarf cautiously tiled the elf's chin up, took a huge inhale, and exhaled into the elfs mouth. The elf was dreadfully still accept the movement of his chest from Kili's breaths and Thorin's compressions. Bilbo felt sick as he heard the creaking of the elfs ribs with each compression.

Suddenly the elf started to heave and Kili backed away in surprise. Quickly Thorin stopped his compressions and helped roll the elf onto his side. It was how that Bilbo fully looked at the elf. The most shocking thing about him was the giant scar that extended from above his eyebrow to down his cheek. The knife seemed to have missed his eye, but Bilbo had never seen the elf open his eyes so for all he knew the elf only had one good eye left.

The elf heaved and finally brought up some liquidy vomit as water continued to bubble up in his throat. He continued to heaven and cough for a few minutes. Finally he lay still and Thorin rolled him onto his back again.

“we should keep him on his side, just incase he still has some water left in his system,” Balin said, gently positioning the elf on his side, using his outer coat off to cushion the elf’s head. Kili clutched his side in pain as he stood and Fili was beside him in an instant. Kili shrugged his concerned brother off as he sat far away from the elf, furiously wiping his mouth.

“Mahal, why did i just kiss an elf?” he complained, cheeks turning red as Bilbo tried to scowl at him. The stubbornness of dwarves was something he would never seem to understand.

“You saved his life is what you did,” Bilbo said, giving Kili a gentle pat on the shoulder. “I thank you for that.”

“Why did we save the wretched creature's life anyway? He is of no more use to us than he was in the water,” Dwalin grumbled, marching over to the rest of the dwarves who all looked on in stunned silence.

“Because he has saved your lives at least twice! im sure it is the elf from the forest,” Bilbo cried. “When the siders were about to eat you he killed them, shot them down as you slept with venom in your veins. Just today he saved kili from getting shot by an arrow from the huge orc’s bow.” 

“What are we supposed to do with him? If we leave him here the orcs will slaughter him.” Nori piped up.

“We could bring him with us,” Bilbo suggested. 

“I will not carry the dead weight of an… elf.” Thorin spat the final word with as much disgust as he could muster. He had only helped the blasted thing for Bilbo's sake. Now he was expected to carry the mostly dead elf on his journey to his, his father’s, and his grandfather’s kingdom?

“If what Bilbo says is true, about the elf saving Kili, then I wont allow us to leave him here, only to be killed by orcs,” Fili said, a glint of a challenge in his eyes. 

“He will only slow us down, be can't afford any more time,” Thorin countered.

“He has saved us more times that we have saved him.”

Thorin seemed to be losing the battle with his patience. “No. we cannot waste precious time on an elf. We must set out now if we wish to get a head start on the orcs.”

Just as Thorin was about to walk away the elf stirred and opened his eyes with a groan. His eyes started to flutter shut but Oin gently shook his shoulder. The elf started with a gasp before his expression morphed into one of pain.

“Easy there lad, we don't mean any harm,” Balin said gently.

“You’re those dwarves from the forest,” the elf said, his voice hoarse from vomiting.

“Yes, and as I understand you saved our lives,” Balin continued, “and for that we are very grateful.”

The elf seemed to gain his composure, the painted look being buried behind a mask. “Yes, that one especially looks very grateful,” the elf said coldly as he nodded his head towards Thorin.

“We saved your life, elf, and you mock Thorin, son of Thrain, son of-” Dwalin started but Thorin didn't let him finish.

“Enough,” Thorin said sharply as he hoisted the elf to his feet even though the elf stood much taller than him. “why did you help us? Are you after a share of treasure or do you want us to owe you?”

“Neither,” the elf said, trying to sound emotionless but a hit of pain was in his voice. he started to sway, looking like he would fall any second. Fili rushed to support him although the elf refused to lean against him.

“So why then?” Thorin demanded, showing not compassion for the elf's physical state.

“I have a thing against the spiders that killed my brother, I enjoy killing them. You just simply happened to be there,” the elf said, making Thorin internally flinch. He knew the feeling all too well, avenging his brother by slaughtering hundreds of orcs had been his pastime until Kili had been born.

“As for the orcs, well I wouldn't want to see my friends die at the hands of Bolg,” the elf said, pushing Fili away as he stood by himself. “Nor would I wish the same for anyone else. My kin do not appreciate my help, but I cannot stand by and watch them get slaughtered.”

Thorin stood silent for a moment before Fili cut in from his new position beside Kili, “Why did you save my brother, Kili. That orc, Bolg, would have shot him.”

“He is just a child, he need not know the pain of orc poison just yet,” the elf said before coughing harshly.

“I am not a child!” kili yelled from where he sat, now far away from the elf, his cheeks flushed red. The elf looked at him and Kili turned away sharply as the blush on his face intensified. Dwarves do not blush, even if it is from the embarrassment of kissing an elf. 

“Do not think of it as a kiss, Kili,” Fili said, as if reading his brothers mind. “It was… re-paying him for saving your life. No blow will come to your honour,” 

“Dwarves do not need saving,” was Kili’s cold reply. “He should have let the arrow find its mark. I would at least be able to say I got the wound protecting my kin.”

“Only a fool would would want an arrow wound! You would be dead if it had struck you. You are an archer so you should know of its fatality,” Fili whispered harshly, no longer trying to hide his frustration with his brother.

“Dwarves,” Thorin's booming voice rang out across the shoreline “and master hobbit,” he added, “we must continue on. Durin's day comes closer with each moment. We must make haste.” Thorin turned to his nephews. “Fili, watch out for your brother. Make sure he does not tear his stitches.” the dwarf King then gave this youngest heir a stern look. “I thank you for what you did, but it was foolish and you could have been killed.” Thorin then took on a softer expression. “My sister-son, I do not wish for any harm to come to you.”

Kili bowed his head as Thorin turned to share quick whispers with Dwalin before starting off into the forest in search of a path. The rest of the dwarves hastily gathered their sodden coats and were about to follow their King when the elf spoke. 

“If you wish to get to Laketown, I know of a way.”

Thorin, many feet away stopped but did not turn to look at the elf. “What is it to you if we are going to Laketown?”

“It is nothing to me, but the orcs have speed and you, “ he said looking a Kili, “are injured. And you” he said looking back to Thorin, “do not have speed on your side, your height does not allow it.”

With a roar of anger Thorin closed the gap between him and the elf. “You will not speak to me, or any of my company in that manner! We saved your life. You should be grateful!”

The elf did not flinch, but he did take a small step back from Thorin. Not in fear, but perhaps because he wished not to be that close to a dwarf. 

“These barrels that you stole from my people are to be picked up by a bargeman and carried to laketown. If you wait for his arrival, I can put in a word or two on your behalf, He does not take kindly to strangers, but the orcs cannot hunt you down in the middle of a frozen lake.” the elf continued, as if he hadn't heard Thorin's outburst. 

Thorin was about to reply, spitfire words already on the tip of his tongue but Dwalin held him back, “As much as I hate elvenkind,” he muttered under his breath, “the thing does have a point. Kili is wounded, and the orcs are not far behind. They will run us down, sure as daylight.”

Thorin growled deep in his throat, but turned to look at the elf. “What is your name, elf. If we are to board this bargeman's boat we must seem acquainted.”

“I am in Arden, but I doubt knowing my name will help you enjoy my company.” Arden said. 

It was now that Bilbo noticed how the elf, however well hidden, looked pained. Bilbo squinted against the light reflecting off the water and yes- he could see the faintest tremors shaking the elf. 

“Master Arden. You should rest, you have nearly drowned,” Bilbo said calmly trying to ease the tension between elf and dwarf.

“I’m fine, hobbit.” he said sharply, trying to stand straighter and Bilbo saw the elf physically try and stop his trembling.

It was then Thorin turned away and beckoned Balin and Dwalin to talk at the forest's edge, their hushed whispered could not be dysphered. 

As they talked, Bilbo couldn't help but steal glances at the elf. Even though the elf looked as though he wanted nothing more than to sit down he stayed standing until the coughing started. Sharp and painful coughing it was and the poor elf was forced to his knees. Bilbo found himself by Arden's side, rubbing his back af the elf continued to cough. A sudden, sharp cough made the elf heave, water and bile dripping onto the rock by his knees. Bilbo now looked up to see fili holding back the elf’s wet and tangled hair, keeping out of his face as the elf continued to heave and cough up the rest of the water.

Bilbo heard thorin mutter something infuriatingly close to pathetic under his breath. Leaving Arden in the care of Fili and his brother, the hobbit marched up to Thorin and his small company of Dwalin and Balin. 

“You are too blinded by your own stubbornness to see that this elf has saved your life once and Kili’s at least twice! Do not call him pathetic or weak for almost drowning. He is in pain and he does not deserve you putting him down for being sick.” Bilbo then found all of his anger gone, leaving him as his furrious words left his mouth. He suddenly felt very small as thorn stared at him from under furrowed brows. He looked very angry and Bilbo suddenly wished he’d written a will before confronting the son of Durin.

“The halfing does have a point,” Dwalin said eventually, cutting into the suffocating tension. 

“What? You can't be serious Dwalin. Elves have caused us nothing but trouble. Have you forgotten what they did to our people? When we needed them most they turned their backs!”

“That does not mean we should turn out back on them! This elf, Arden, probably wasnt even born. It is the King you should hold your grudge against, not his entile people,” Bilbo said, unable to hold back.

“And what would you know, _hobbit_? You have never had to leave your home because it was _stolen_ from you! You havent known what its like to watch your family fall in battle. You do not know the pain of watching your kin go mad with sadness. You have never whitnessed _chilren_ dying from cold and sickness. Do not talk to me of letting go when you cannot falthom what we have lost,” Thorin said, his body present and face stoic, but his mind seemed elswhere and his eyes showed deep sadness. Bilbo felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought of watching his friends die and his hobbit house be taken by a dragon, although the dragon wouldn't fit in his house. Still, the thought saddend Bilbo and he found himself unable to answer.

“I know some of what you speak.” said a voice behing bilbo. Arden, supported by Fili and Kili, had walked over. He srugged the dwarves off but imedialty began to collaps. Fili and Kili were quick to support the elf once again. Arden did not struggle out of their grip, he now looked too tired to even sit straight. 

“How could you possibly know?” Thorin growled, far to cought up in the past to make any physical threat.

“I too lost my home, my family. I watched my brother die before my very eyes. I watched as my mother whent mad with grief and my father spent ever waking minute guarding our King. Yet he did nothing. He did not care for us. We were not his kin.” the elf traced the scar that ran down his face. “He hated me for catching the eye of his son, so he gave me this. He disfigured me, cast me out of my own home; the one he took away from my people long ago, he even watched as his son wheeped as I bled on the great halls of my ansestors.” Arden stared at Thorin, a knowing look in his eyes. “I do not know of dragon fire, and I have never seen my kin starve, but I have suffered like you, I know the true face of Thraduil.”

It was then, in the long silence that Ori ran up to the small group. “the bargeman is here! We must be going before the orcs come any closer.”

And so Thorin and the elf both put on their masks of dignity and walked to the shore to wait for the bargeman.


	2. The Journey to Lake-Town

Ori was true to his word, for when they got to the shore of the lake, a good trek away from their resting spot, bilbo s[otted a large barge. Bilbo thought it was good that they had abandoned the barrels when they had, for if they had stayed surely they would have drowned in the rapids. The bargeman was trying to get hold to the barrels that lazily floated out of the mouth of the river and into the lake. When the sight of the dwarves caught his eye the man stopped his work and frowned.

“It's been a long time since I've seen any dwarves in these parts,” he said, his breath billowing out of his mouth and into the cool air.

Bilbo saw Thorin's mouth open but before he could say anything Balin started talking for him. 

“Aye, Laddie. Were looking for travel across the lake.” 

Thorin's mouth snapped shut and Bilbo thought if he tensed his jaw any more it would break from the pressure. The hobbit gently patted Thorin’s arm in some form of comfort. Comfort for what he did not know. Maybe it was an apology for his careless words. None the less Thorin seemed to relax slightly and gave Bilbo a hearty thump on the back that forced the hobbit to regain his footing. 

“Apologies, master Baggins,” Thorin leaned down and whispered to Bilbo, ”I forget you do not have the stature of a dwarf.”

“And why is that, dwarf?” the man shot back in response to Balin, clearly not very inclined to help the company.

“We mean to travel to Lake-town. We have an injured companion and he cannot make the journey around in such cold.” Balin explained.

There was a long pause form the bargeman as he brought his boat to shore and hopped out onto the pebbled beach.

“And where is your injured comrade, you all look rather fine to me, aside from being a little wet. Fancy a swim in the river did you?”

Thorin bit back a growl, much to everyone's relief. Angering the bargeman would only make things worse. Just as Balin was about to explain the predicament two dwarves and an elf burst out of the bushes. Kili and Fili were acting as rather annoyed crutches for Arden as he kept trying to walk on his own, only to start to fall into unconsciousness.

“Arden, my dear friend!” the bargeman said before fully seeing the state of the elf. “What happened to you? Don't tell me you tried to see Legolas again.”

Arden seemed to come back to middle earth from whatever place he had been, finally realizing that the bargeman was right in front of him and relieving Kili and Fili of crutch duty.

“Bard. how good it is to see you,” he said with a tired smile before it quickly fell. “No, Legolas will have nothing to do with me. It seems he pines after a Silvan elf with red hair.”

“What a pity,” Bard said, sounding like he was talking to a tearful child. “You could have been a king if that elf had any sense.”

“Tell that to his father.” Arden said before a deep, hollowing cough shook his body.

“What ails him?” Bard asked, looking at the dwarves. “Elves rarely get ill.”

“It is the same with dwarves, but he had nearly drowned in the river." Balin replied, coming over to stand near Bilbo and Thorin. “These two, along with Kili saved his life,” he said and Bilbo found himself the recipient of another thwap on the shoulder.

“Drowned? Surely you must be wrong. Arden is one of the strongest swimmers I know.” Bard said, shaking his head in disagreement.

“Aye, it's true. The elf nearly drowned.” Dwalin spoke solemnly. Bilbo had noticed he kept checking over his shoulder as if anticipating the orcs to show up any minute. 

“Thorin, we have wasted too much time.” the huge dwarf murmured to Thorin “we need to get on that boat or start the trek to Lake-town.”

Thorin nodded once before turning to Bard. “We need assistance in crossing the lake. this … elf-”

“This elf saved our lives,” Bilbo interrupted, not wanting Thorin to put their journey in danger by letting his pride get the best of him. “ he told us that the best way to get to lake town was by boarding your boat, o bargeman. Arden tries not to show it, but the water had damaged him and we cannot travel with speed with him in such a state. If the orcs are following us, and I am positive they are, we will be run down on the path to Lake-town. We beg of you to allow us to join you on your journey back to your home town.”

"orcs? elves would never allow orcs in their territory. and they are chasing you lot? no good comes with dwarves, no good."

"yes orcs," Bilbo said. "we are-" but Bilbo stopped when Thorin gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. right, dwarves and their secret adventures. "uh, pardon, we are travelling to Lake-town to see the great lonely mountain. we have never layed eyes upon its magnificence and would like to see it before we return home."

Bard looked skeptical. "that still doesn't explain the orcs."

"Oh, right. the orcs. well you see they had a skirmish with the elves and this one," Bilbo gestured to the barely conscious Arden, "was attacked. the orcs probably want to use him for information or something, we are only travellers and have no need of trouble with orcs, although they do seem to want trouble with everyone."

Bard seemed to think for a second. "too right you are. we don't get many orcs up in Laketown, but when we do, many do not see the light of day again," he said, gently adjusting his grip on Arden, who was trying to stand on his own yet again. Bard obliged but the elf quickly swayed on his feet before falling to his knees. 

“Now will you let me help you? Dwarves are stubborn, but nothing can beat elves when it comes to trying to keep up appearances.” Bard grumbled and then bent down to hoist Arden to his feet. 

Arden merely scowled at him but accepted the support.

“Do you trust them?” Bard asked under his breath. The dwarves could hear him but said nothing, even Thorin awaited the elf’s reply with much anticipation.

“Trust them? No. they are dwarves, but they are good people. They want to help their kin and have suffered much. I do not believe that elves or men should hold them back from their quest.”

A sigh of relief sounded from the dwarves. Many seemed to reply before Dwalin and Thorin did the same thing.

“Can we trust the man?”

“It is our best shot at getting to Lake-town in one piece.”

“But Erebor, word will spread fast.”

“Then we'd better get aboard that ship.”

And so it was decided that the dwarves of Erebor would board the barge and sail to Lake-town.

The journey was a frigid and painstakingly long affair. Arden had needed rest and seemed to be faring well after sleeping for many hours. He had vomited a few more times but had finally seemed to expel all of the water in his lungs and stomach. The dwarves, many used to the cool of high mountains and pitiful journeys, seemed to take the temperature well. It was Bilbo that seemed to be fairing the worst of all of them. He shivered incessantly and even with Thorin's furs and a small splash of fire whisky from Oin he found himself still frozen to the bone. It was only when Thorin wrapped him in his arms that Bilbo managed to find some heat. 

“We can't have you turning into a block of ice, master burglar.” Thorin has said softly, as everyone was asleep and the barge anchored for the night.

Bilbo wasn't sure if it was the warmth from Thorin’s strong, muscular arms or the hot expanse of his chest that made Bilbo’s cheeks flush with warmth. He tried not to think about it for too long. Instead, he submerged himself in the warmth and pressed himself tightly against Thorin.

The second day of travel seemed much better. Arden and Bard shared stories and Bilbo found himself eavesdropping to hear the ending of how Arden had once climbed the tallest tree in the forest to see the silver light of the stars. 

“We celebrated Mereth-en-Gilith, the Feast of Starlight, back when I lived in the kingdom. I remember very little now, mother hadn't let me attend in the years prior to my exile, I was only 30 when it happened, mind you.” Arden said, looking out across the frozen expanse of the lake. “All I remember is how everything shone, white light from the stars illuminating crystals hung from the grand ceilings and bathing everything in silver light,” the elf sighed, seemingly reliving the memory.

“I always thought it was a cold, hard light.” 

The hobbit, elf, and man all turned to look at Kili. Bilbo had thought everyone else to be busy playing a betting game, but yet the youngest dwarf stood a little ways away, also listening to the stories the elf and man shared.

“Oh the contrary, dwarf.” Arden said softly, eyes seeming full of a memory from long ago. "Mereth-en-Gilith is a celebration of she who is the stars. Every year she shines brightly to show us of the beauty of the night.

“She?” Bilbo asked, rather confused. Who was the woman the elf spoke of? 

“Yes, the stars. Elves have always referred to the stars as beautiful women. I may not find the body of a woman to be attractive, little hobbit, but believe me when I say I know many beautiful women. My mother was once the most beautiful elf in all the realms, even our bastard of a king admired her.... but the stars… the stars are a beauty of pure light.”

“But the light is so far away. Beautiful, yes, but remote… something that can never be reached as it lies too far above the trees and towers to be able to touch.” Kili seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as well. “Yes, cold light is the light of the stars.”

“Tell me what you find beautiful then, Kili.” Arden said, looking fondly at the dwarf. “It's a curious thing. Do you find the glitter of gold and jewels to be beautiful? or the sound of metal being bent into mighty weapons?”

Kili seemed stuck in thought for a moment before he spoke. “I have never known the vast expanse or glitter of golden treasure. I'm sure it holds much beauty, but it is something I have never seen, so I cannot find the beauty of it… I saw a fire moon once, it was huge! I watched it rise into the night over Dunland while I was travelling with Thorin and Fili. We were travelling with merchants from Ered Luin. red and gold, it was. We walked all through the night as it lit our path. I think that is something I find beautiful. I would have wished to show you, but they rarely occur. I have only ever seen that one.”

“I must say, you have certainly have seen magnificent things!” Bilbo said after Kili had finished. “I sadly have spent most of my time in my little hobbit hole. I have never been on any sort of adventure, except this one of course,” he added.

“What then, little hobbit, so you find beautiful? I have never met a hobbit before. I must admit you are quite intriguing creatures if the rest of your kind are like you.” Arden said and Kili nodded in agreement.

“I had never even known that people like you existed until uncle told me and Fili to go to Hobbiton.”

“Uh, well I must say I find the whistle of a kettle and the smell of old books to be very calming… thought I would not say it is beautiful… my-my I can hardly think of something that compares to what you find beautiful.”

“See, master Bilbo, that is where you are wrong. Beauty to you is different from beauty to me or Bard. And Bard finds the smiles of his children to be the most beautiful things to him, closely seconded by the sizzling of bacon. Fret not hobbit, we do not judge you here.”

Arden got a sharp elbow from Bard after mentioning the bacon. Bilbo had expected the elf to shove him back, but instead he coughed wetly, quickly bending over the side of the ship and spitting. 

“Are you alright?” Bilbo asked, fretting over the state of the elf. The wetness in his lung and the cool air must make him feel absolutely dreadful.

“Yes, quite alright, Bilbo,” was the elf's reply.

But little escaped Bilbo. He prided himself on being able to read people like the many books he had in his hobbit hole. He could tell when someone was sad or when someone has burnt their toast that morning. It was harder with dwarves and elves, Bilbo had realized. But that was probably because he hadn't spent his whole life surrounded by them. But still, Bilbo was able to recognize the flash of pain in someone's eyes or the deep discomfort from a bitter cold. Bilbo could see it all in the way the elf held himself and how he looked when he thought no one was looking. 

“Master Arden, I do believe you are lying.”

Arden looked up, seemingly expressionless but the slight raise of his eyebrows gave his shock away. “Trust me,” he said, “I feel fine. It's just the cold air, that's all.”

“I must insist you lie down, you have almost definitely damaged your lungs.”

“If I must rest from a small cut, then master Baggins is right. you must rest.” Fili said, agreeing with the hobbit. Bilbo found it quite strange, Kili had been so detested by the elf, yet now they seemed almost friends. Of course, Bilbo would never have voiced this himself.

But that remind Bilbo that Kili had indeed suffered an injury. How long had it been since it was tended? It would be fine until the morning, surely. What they needed now was plenty of rest.

“Off to bed, both of you. You’ll need plenty of rest to heal. No back talk from either of you, do you understand? Bed. now.” Bilbo thought silently that he sounded like a mother scolding her children. Bilbo had no children but he supposed he would sound like that if he did.

“Mahal, even when mother is back in Ered Luin she still manages to find her ways to scold me.” Kili said, trying to joke, but Bilbo could tell he truly missed his mother. Who wouldn't? Bilbo certainly missed his.

“Did I not say no back talk? Bed.” he said sternly, although he didn't mean to sound like a dwarven mother. He drew the line there.

After he watched both Kili and Arden lay down to rest Bilbo turned to see the rest of the dwarves looking at him. 

“What magical powers do you possess master Baggins? That child has always been the hardest to put down to rest and to wake in the morn’.” Thorin said, almost in awe of the little hobbit.

“Ah, well… I'm not sure to be entirely truthful.” Bilbo stammered, blushing under the wondrous gaze of Thorin Oakenshield.

“You must have children of your own then? To be able to accomplish an act such as that.” Thorin said. Then he realized that if Bilbo did have children of his own, he had left them in Bagend. Perhaps he had left a note or told his wife of his absence.

“Oh no, not me good dwarf.” Bilbo said, laughing; it was such a delightful sound to Thorin. Dwarves laughed when they had too much ale or when a battle had been won with little laughter in between.

“A wife then? Surely you have someone back in your hobbit hole” Thorin wondered as the rest of the dwarves returned to their game although they all stayed quiet to hear the conversation between their king and the hobbit.

“No… no, I've never thought about settling down with someone. And it's a good thing I don't have one, otherwise, she surely wouldn't have let me come of this quest, Gandalf be damned.”

Thorin chuckled at this as he pictured a stout little hobbit woman forcing Bilbo to choose between the adventure or his beloved handkerchief. 

“Yes, it is a very good thing, master hobbit. For I would surely be dead many times over if not for you.”

“Just snog him already!” both Bilbo and Thorin heard someone mutter in the silence. Immediately Bilbo and Thorin took a rather large step away from each other before Thorin went to wring out whoever had said that.

“Good going, Dori. We’re all dead now.” Nori whispered so none other than Dori could hear him. 

 

The rest of the day continued on much as the day before had. It was only until Bard had started to near the shore did Thorin speak up.

“I thought you were bringing us to Lake-town, human.”

“It’s too dangerous. Only those permitted by the master may enter. I would be hung for trying to smuggle dwarves into our town.”

“Surely not, the master of Lake-town is a kind man, he would not hang you,” said Arden, seeming rather shocked at this news.

“Times have changed, Arden. You have not seen the master for many many years. He is changed, fueled only by his own greed and comfort. He has little problem watching his people starve and freeze while he stays in his tower surrounded by riches,” Bard spat, the fury in his voice could only be seconded by Thorin, or perhaps Dwalin.

“What then? We have long since been on land, surely the town cannot be that far.” Ori said quietly, holding his precious documentation journal to his chest. 

“No, only another day's journey. It isn't the most well-kept path so few people use it. It was used by the elves who travelled once to Esgaroth when it had once been a great city in the days of golden fountains. Now elves have little contact with us. We make trade but they no longer visit.” Bard looked over to Arden and gave him a half smile. “Except this outcast.”

“Watch your mouth, mortal.” Arden replied, although no bite was behind the words.

“Is it safe?” Balin asked, finally asking the question Bilbo was the most concerned about.

“I cannot guarantee it’s safely, but I can assure you, I can count on my hand how many people know of it. The entrance to Lake-town is not guarded, although you could be seen if you are not careful.”

As the boat beached on the shore Bilbo extended his hand to Arden. 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, master Arden. I hope our paths cross again.” Bilbo said smiling.

“Why, Bilbo Baggins, I was just about to ask if I could join your company? It has been so long since I have talked to anyone besides woodland creatures and bard. Very few would care to be seen with an exiled elf,” he explained. 

“And why should we? We know very little about you! you might be a spy for the elf king!” one of the dwarves said loudly, a few of the older dwarves nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah! All we know of you is your name, and that you were ‘exiled’ as you say. But why should we trust an elf? They have done nothing but mock and shame us!”

Now most of the dwarves were murmuring in agreement. 

“For dwarves I would have thought you would have some sense, but alas you can barely see past your own noses!” Bilbo cried, “have you not see how much this elf has helped us? He had saved your lives, possibly twice now for all of you and he has shown us the safest route to lake town on this side of the misty mountain. Really, I would have thought you had more honour than to only think of yourselves.” 

Bilbo knew better to question the honour of the dwarves, it seemed to be a rather touchy subject amongst them. But no matter, the dwarves could not see clearly because of their own mistrust, so Bilbo had taken it upon himself to set things right. 

“Now. think about everything Arden has done, and think very hard,” Bilbo said sternly. “Think of how he saved you from being eaten by spiders, saved Kili from being shot by an orc, found us this wonderful and kind bargeman who is currently risking his life to help us, think of how he is treated by you and yet still helps us! I would strongly suggest allowing him to join the company. it is an elf trail after all.”

Bilbo felt rather pleased with himself. It did appear that the dwarves were thinking about everything that had happened over the course of the last three days. 

“I agree with master Baggins.” Ori said finally. “I do believe we can trust Arden. 

“So do I,” Kili said jumping up from where he was sitting. He gave a slight wince of pain as he felt the pull of his stitches. ‘He may be an elf, but he has shown us much kindness. I do not see why we should lose such an asset to the party.”

“Aye, I agree too,” Balin said, standing up as well. “The lad nearly drowned, yet he pushes on. He is strong and trustworthy.”

A debate broke out amongst the rest of the dwarves, arguing softly amongst themselves if Arden really could be trusted to joining them on the journey to Erebor. 

“I do not wish to intrude,” Arden finally interjected, although the way he spoke certainly meant he wanted to interrupt. “I see I have not earned your trust. I do not wish for your trust if you do not want to give it. You are only stubborn dwarves. I did not expect any less, especially from the line of Durin.”

Thorin seemed to glare at Dwalin, for the dwarf had let it slip about Thorin being the heir to the throne. 

“However, I would say you do not know the trails as I do, nor do you know of Lake-town. Apparently, I know less than I thought according to Bard, but I know more than you do nonetheless. I think that if you want to reach the lonely mountain you should think wisely.” it was then that Arden couldn't help himself, elves were notorious for their teasing. “Bilbo is right, you may all need spectacles if you truly cannot see past your own noses.”

After much debating and discussing the dwarves reluctantly agreed to let Arden join them on their way to Lake-town. 

Bilbo thanked bard again for his help and waved as the bargeman set off towards the frozen town. Now, for the journey to Lake-town. 

If Bilbo though he had been cold on the barge, he was not prepared for the bone-chilling temperatures of the elvan trail. He pulled Thorin’s furs tighter around himself as he marched on, no longer able to feel his own toes or fingers. His poor hobbit feet were bare as he followed the company of dwarves and the single elf. After only a couple of hours, Bilbo found himself lagging behind. For where he walked he could get a good look at the back of Bifur's head and Arden, only because the elf stood taller than the dwarves so even his shoulders and upper back could be seen over the dwarves heads. The elf wore his hair in a bun at the back of his head, not wanting to get his hair in his face as the icy wind seemingly blew from all directions. 

The walked on for many hours before Bilbo started to notice that Kili was having trouble keeping pace with the rest of the group. A few moments later it dawned on him that it wasn't Kili who was having trouble keeping up, it was Arden. The elf had longer legs so it wasn't as apparent, but the elf had slowly been passed by other dwarves as time went on. 

“Are you sure you're alright? Your leg seems to be bothering you,” Kili asked, seeming quite worried for the elf’s health.

“Again, I'm fine, dwarf. Why do you insist on nagging me so?”

“I spoke up for you so if you seem weak others will scrutinize my judgement, that is all.” Kili said, turning away from the elf’s stare. Truthfully he was worried, but for what reason he wasn't sure. 

“Don't worry, your judgment won’t be tested. I’m fine.”

Bilbo watched as he walked. Over the hours or relentless walking Kili and Arden had fallen into a pattern, one asking a question then the other answering then they switched. This continued for a while before yet again Kili asked if Arden was ok as he stumbled. 

“I told you I was fine! Leave me be.” 

At this Fili looked back, his brows furrowed with worry. He did not support his brothers need to talk to the elf. Arden was only showing them the way, after all, no need for Kili to make friends with him. And then there was the matter of their uncle. If Kili did become friends with the elf, who knew how the others, including Thorin, would think of his younger brother. As the heirs to the throne they had an image to uphold. Becoming friends or even just showing compassion for the elf could have the dwarves back home rioting. Oh what would their mother think?

But Fili already knew. Dis would be accepting. She would lay out the harsh reality of it to Kili, but she wouldn't punish him for enjoying the elf’s company.

But now, as they marched on, Fili couldn't help notice how the elf’s words seemed to turn cold. He was agitated and snapped at Kili when the young dwarf pressed him too hard. It could be the long journey, but Fili has other suspensions. He had seen it commonly amongst dwarves, hiding their own hurt behind anger and cruel words. As Fili looked back he saw the saddened expression of his younger brother as once again Arden told him to stop asking if he was alright. 

After Thorin finally allowed them to create a fire and settle down to rest for a moment or two Fili took his opportunity.

“Arden, I need to talk to you.” Fili said in a hushed voice as the rest of the dwarves hurried to make a fire

“What for, dwarf?” Arden asked, more exhausted than irritated. Fili took a good look at the elf and realized how sickly he looked. No wonder Kili had been nagging him. 

“It's about my brother.”

“Oh, the young one.” Arden said, his gaze drifting over to where Kili was helping carry a load of wood for the fire. “ he is innocent, not yet scarred from battle or losing loved ones.” 

At that Fili bristled. “He lost his father in battle. Our father.”

“I'm sorry for your loss,” was all Arden said. 

“Yes. he was a great dwarf. I wish he had been able to lay in the great stone halls of his father's instead of the blue mountain.”

They both stayed silent for a long while. Fili did not know how to voice his thoughts and Arden seemed too exhausted to say anymore.

“I took an arrow for him. I saw his face and realized that someone so full of courage and spark should not feel such pain.” Arden finally said.

“You did what?” Fili asked, shocked. 

“It wasn't much, I've suffered through worse. You must not tell anyone, they will leave me behind. Please.” the elf was almost on the verge of begging. His stupid mouth just had to open on its own. 

“I… are you sure you will be alright? Oin can treat it- “

“No! The healer isn't an elf. he would only make it worse. I have been tending to it myself, but I fear it might fester. Bard had medicine in his home that should help, but for that I need to get to Lake-town.”

“Why didn't you just tell him on the barge?” Fili asked, utterly confused at the elf’s reasoning, “Surely he would have helped you then and there.”

Arden just shook his head but found it made him incredibly dizzy. “No, he would insist on bringing me straight to Lake-town and risked his life as well as his children’s. I could not ask that of him.”

“Will you be able to make the journey? We still have at least a few hours of travel left before we reach Lake-town,” 

“Oh yes, I'll be fine. I've managed this fare haven't I?” the elf flashed Fili a tired smile and for a second Fili could tell why his brother enjoyed the company of the elf. 

“Very well, I won't tell anyone… but only if you don't collapse on the way there.” Fili said, trying to match the elf’s smile, but found he fell short.

“It's a deal then. Thank you, Fili.” Arden said before getting up to join the others by the fire. Fili couldn't help but admire the strength of the elf. The gnawing feeling of dread did not go away though, and Fili found himself anxiously waiting for the party to set off again. 

Thorin was true to his word and rested only long enough for everyone to warm up a little. Arden had sat close to the fire, but the heat had brought no comfort to the pain in his leg. He knew it was foolish to inform the dwarf of his injury, but truthfully he seemed relieved that he did not share the burden alone. He was unable to control how his pain, but the elf could at least try and look better than he felt. 

They walked on and on, and Arden began to truly feel the injuries he had sustained. His ribs hurt most compared to the stabbing pain in his leg, each breath sending fire into his lungs. Although Arden said he was fine, Bilbo insisted the company stop so he could regain his breath after another coughing fit had gripped him. He was thankful when Thorin agreed, for he felt rather dizzy and wasn't sure if he was even breathing at all.

But he marched on, trying to uphold some of his dignity. The dwarf, Fili, was constantly watching him out of the corner of his eye, and Arden was finding himself quite annoyed as the two brothers walked beside him. Kili seemed to want nothing to do with the elf, although Arden could not blame him. He had been sharp, realizing that he was growing fond of the young dwarf all too quickly. Arden bit back a groan of pain as he left the arrowhead inside his thigh shift slightly when he tripped over a root. It wasn't uncommon here to trip as the trees absolutely hated trespassers, having forgotten of the times when many an elf would travel this trail. Now they shifted their roots to try to disrupt the dwarves, elf, and hobbit. The trees had become too content with the peacefulness of the forest. 

“These bloody roots are everywhere!” Dwalin bellowed has he brought his axe down on one of the pesky roots. A low groan sounded deep from within the forest sending a shiver of fear down some of the dwarves' spines. Dwalin was about to bring his axe down again when Arden rushed forward and grabbed his arm. The quick movement sent lightning hot pain through his leg, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. 

“I wouldn't do that if I were you, dwarf,” he said, letting go of Dwalin’s arm when the dwarf glared at him. 

“An’ why not?” came the gruff reply.

“The trees are alive. they speak, although not in tongues you or I could understand. They feel pain the way you feel pain. Trees protect many things from the evils that lurk. Don't harm them or you will live to regret it.”

Another moan came from the forest, and the leaves rustled in agreement. Arden smiled, for in all his years in the forest he had made friends with the trees. They provided him with shelter, growing their branches into a small home for him, and in return, he planted their seeds all throughout the forest and cut them down when they were too sick to stay standing. He had learned some of what they spoke, although it was only a whisper in the wind in the early mornings. He loved the forest and would protect her with his life. 

“What a load of rubbish,” Dwalin muttered, but shielded his axe nonetheless. 

And so they trudged on for a few more hours. Suddenly Thorin stopped and the rest of the dwarves, too tired to really notice, stumbled into each other, not prepared for the sudden stop. 

“What is it? Why have we stopped?” the dwarves asked anxiously, trying to get a look at whatever had stopped Thorin in his tracks. 

Bilbo, being the smallest to the group, managed to squeeze himself through the bunch of dwarves until he stood just behind Thorin. At first, Bilbo thought he was looking at the small town that lay maybe half an hours walk away. The town seemed to be covered in a sheet of ice and snow, but some windows were warmly lit and wisps of smoke rose from some of the chimnies.

“Behold, Erebor.”

And so Bilbo found he had been looking at something else entirely, for there was a huge mountain that rose up into the night behind lake-town. The lonely mountain, true to its name, wasn't surrounded by anything other than large foothills and a few meagre peaks of mountains that paled in comparison to the huge peak of the lonely mountain. 

“Wow, it is truly magnificent.” Bilbo whispered, unable to take his eyes off of the mountain.

“Wait until you see inside, you will be knocked off your feet.” Thorin replied.

It was then that he turned to the rest of the company, “look long and hard lads, we are almost to Erebor!” he yelled loudly as cheers from the dwarves rose up into the night. Something in Bilbo finally clicked and after what seemed like years of travel he was finally able to see their destination. Suddenly a feeling of dread crashed over the hobbit and the severity of his role in the company was suddenly at the forefront of his mind. Somewhere in that huge mountain was Smaug the dragon. It was Bilbo’s job to sneak in and steal a single jewel from a vast hall of treasure without awakening him. 

“You look pale, master Bilbo. Are you alright?” Thorin said, suddenly awakening Bilbo from the depths his mind. The dwarf started to shrug off his undercoat, thinking the hobbit was once again freezing.

“Oh! I’m quite fine, truly. Just thinking about how we should do when we get to lake-tow,” the hobbit lied, however, his words did have some truth to them, he had been wondering about what they would do once they got to Lake-town.

“We will find bard,” Arden answered for him, making his way slowly through the clump of awestruck dwarves. The elf looked about to say something else when he grimaced, a hand clutching his chest in pain.

“Elf, are you alright?” Thorin asked, making his way over to Arden, who seemed just as surprised as the rest of the dwarves at the king's concern.

“Yes- yes I’m-”

“No he's not!” Fili called out pushing his way through until he was standing before the elf. “He was...” Fili shared a glance with Arden, the elf looked as though he would fall to his knees any second, but the elf gave Fili such a pleading look the dwarf suddenly was unable to tell the truth. “He was injured in the river, his ribs might be broken and he has badly bruised his leg.”

Thorin gave Fili skeptical look but nodded his head, becoming for Oin to come over to listen to the elf’s chest. 

“There seems to be some fluid in his chest and his ribs are only bruised, not broken.” Oin said after pressing around the elf’s chest and finding every sore spot Arden did or did not know about. Thankfully the dwarf seemed only concerned with his chest and not his leg, having believed Fili’s lie and not deemed it severe enough to check.

“I'll be fine.” Arden said once again, although his words were accompanied with a wet cough. 

Kili have him a worried look as they started to follow the path down to Lake-town. 

“Why did you tell my brother and not me?” Kili asked, feeling a little hurt although he barely had anything to feel hurt about. 

“Because I don't wish to worry you,” Arden said truthfully. “You don't look yourself when you're worried, not nearly as handsome,” the elf said quietly so only the young dwarf could hear. 

Kili blushed and found himself unable to reply. By dwarf standards he was unattractive, barely having any beard, big ears, or a wide nose. Fili had always reassured him he would find a lass when he grew older, but Kili had never been called handsome. Only uncle and Fili were handsome. But now, a sleek and beautiful elf had called him handsome. The warm feeling the she-elf from the cells had inflicted upon him returned and Kili wondered again if he was allergic to elves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized that I have two different versions of the same story here on ao3! sorry about that! I must have accidentally published the draft version. anywho this is the proper version. 
> 
> thank you for the feedback on the first chapter, I live off of your feedback and would really appreciate it!


	3. Town of Ice and Hearts of Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! heads up I did most of this without spellcheck because my wifi is real weird. I'll iron out the spelling in a bit I promise!
> 
> warning: there's so much angst  
> *I love it*

Indeed, Kili was extremely allergic to elves. Just Ardens gaze made his cheeks flush and his stomach flip. Obviously, it was some elven trick because dwarves are never to associate with their kind. But as they slipped silently into Lake-town, Kili began to realize he didn't mind being allergic to the elf. It gave him a warm feeling inside (most likely a fever) but it heated him against the frigid air. 

Maybe Arden was allergic to dwarves as well. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed and he definitely seemed more sweaty than usual. Kili thought this was strange as he had never seen an elf sweat before, although he had seen very few elves in his life. But as the party approached Bard’s home under the cover of night, Kili noticed that the elf was now limping and hand an arm warped around his torso. His injuries must be bothering him after walking for hours, kili figured, but the elf looked determined to get to Bard’s house and lead the way silently through the ice-covered town. 

They nearly were caught a multitude of times by the guards. They seemed too fixated on warming their frozen fingers to notice the company, but Arden always managed to weave them around corners to avoid the best of the guards. 

They trecked on. All of them were now accustomed to the slippery, ice coated, wood bridges and boardwalks and no longer seemed a footfall away from falling into the frigid water. 

They were walking very quietly over a bridge when Arden, who had been leading the way, suddenly stopped.

“Oh, no. This isn't the right way.” he muttered before pushing his way through the dwarves and heading in the opposite direction. 

“Does he even know where we’re going?” one dwarf muttered to the others

“By my beard, I think he’s lost.”

“An elf? Lost? Never.”

“We’ve been going in circles!”

Suddenly all the dwarves were whispering loudly to one another.

“Shut up! All of you! The guards will hear us if you haven't already awoken the whole bloody town!” Arden hissed as he lead on, the dwarves all falling silent behind him.

At last, they reached Bard’s house after many turnarounds and backtracking, but now they were inside and bowls of warm stew was set in front of each dwarf, elf, and hobbit. 

“We thank you for your hospitality, human.” Thorin said after finishing his second bowl of stew. It tasted like fish and watery broth, but it was steaming hot and felt delightfully good instead of an empty stomach.

“I only ask that you stay hidden from the rest of the folk in town. if word gets out my family is harbouring dwarves… the Master will surely have all our heads.”

“And what family is that, laddie? I see only you in this household.” Balin said, and all the other dwarves nodded.

“Oh, yes, this is Sigrid, my oldest,” he said before a young woman stepped out of a small room off of the kitchen and living space, “Tilda, my youngest, and Bain, my only son,” he said after two younger children stepped out behind their sister. A few of the dwarves gave them smiles and a few waved, not having seen such young creatures in many years. Thorin remained stoic, but Bilbo wondered at the children. He had so rarely seen other creatures other than hobbits in his time in the Shire. On this adventure he had met elves, dwarves, humans, and some very nasty creature he never wanted to encounter again. It filled him with joy to think about the wondrous stories he would spin as he smoked and puffed rings of smoke into the night when he returned to his home.

Soon after the meal of stew was over and the dwarves had started to nod off, Bilbo noticed as Arden, who looked rather banged up from hitting his head on the ceiling that was much too low for elves, pulled Bard aside and share a few quick words. Bard’s eyes quickly fell to Arden’s leg but shot straight back to meet Arden’s eyes before leaving the room. 

“What do you think they're talkin’ ‘bout?” 

Bilbo jumped to find he wasn't the only one watching the strange affair. Kili was standing beside him with his dark brows furrowed and his hair messily braided by Fili.

“No idea, something about his leg perhaps?” Bilbo suggested with a shrug. Arden’s affairs were his own, but still, the hobbit felt worried for him.

“I think I'm allergic to him.” Kili suddenly said. Bilbo turned to him, shocked. 

“Allergic? Whatever would you think that for?” 

“I get very jittery about him, my face heats up with fever, and I'm sure I'm about to vomit from my churning stomach whenever he looks at me. Oh! and my head gets all dizzy and I don't feel myself around him.” Kili complained, holding up a finger for every symptom he had. “I think he’s killing me.”

Bilbo stood and looked at the young dwarf in bewilderment. Surely the boy was wrong and that he was only feeling nervous and butterflies in his stomach. 

“Oh no, Kili. I'm sure Arden is not killing you. I believe you are feeling affection towards him. I sometimes feel the same way around… oh never mind that, but I do believe you are smitten with the elf!”

Kili had a look of pure shock and confusion on his face. Surely he wasn't… becoming attracted to the elf. No, absolutely not. He’s a dwarf, heir to the throne after his brother. surely he could not be feeling such weakness. And for an elf nonetheless!

But it was true. Deep down inside his heart he knew that no matter how much he pushed away how he felt around Arden, it would always bubble up to the surface whenever the elf touched his shoulder or talked about the forest and his adventures.

Ever since he’d seen Bilbo pull the elf to shore that day on the river, he’d felt a tugging at his heart. Dwarves had always believed that from the day they were born, a path had been chiselled out of stone by the great fathers before them. They believed, just as each dwarf had one path, that each dwarf had a _One_. A One that would be bound to them for the rest of eternity. Dwarves married for life and Kili had always feared the commitment of settling down for the rest of his life, being forced to stay with his One and never seeing the gleam of metal on the battlefield or feeling the wind in his hair as he climbed the tallest trees. Unlike his brother, who often would try to seek out his One, Kili stayed far away from any dwarf he felt might be his One. He only truly ever had a deep friendship with Fili, one that ran in his blood and deep in his bones. 

But now he felt the tugging of his heart whenever he stood next to Arden, and he found he could not hate it. 

Instead of saying this to Bilbo, Kili went back to the blanket he and Fili shared on the floor by the fire. He was exhausted, and his side hurt more than it probably should, but Kili couldn't be bothered to have it checked. For now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

The next morning the dwarves awoke to the sound of Thorin, Arden, and Bard all having a go at each other.

“I've told you, if you so much as step out that door, the Master will have you in chains!” Bard said angrily to Thorin, who looked ready to bite the human's head off.

“We need weapons if we are to continue on our journey! I don't think your pike-hook will be enough to even take down a runt goblin!” Thorin yelled, throwing down a heavy metal spear onto the kitchen table with a loud clang.

“Listen, I have ties with the high elves, or at least I did once. I could bargain with the Master to get you better weapons.” Arden added, voice rising in irritation, as he had said this many times before Bilbo had started to listen. He was becoming rather irritated with the dwarf, Bard, and the steady, painful ache of his leg.

“No. You are in no state to go out,” Bard said once again. 

“Bugger off about my state, I'm fine. I can handle that slimy rat of a man, Alfrid, I just need a word with the Master, that’s all.” Arden insisted, although Bilbo noticed he was rather pale and seemed more ill than not.

“I find it rather intriguing how much you are willing to help us, elf. What do you want from us?” Thorin said sharply, glaring at the elf as he gripped the edge of the table roughly. 

“I don't want anything from you, dwarf. I find that a few of your company are fine dwarves and would wish to help them, you, however, seem very adamant that I do everything but help you!”

Bilbo had had it up to the very top of his head by now. 

“Will all of you just shut up for a moment!” he yelled as everyone looked at him in shock, all except the three arguing figured at the table. They only looked at him in irritation. 

“Look, we have all had a rough couple of days, but taking it out on each other will do us no good.” he looked into Thorin’s eyes and said very sternly, “no good.” The King only blinked at him but continued to listen. 

“Why don't we let Arden go and talk to the Master,” Bilbo suggested and effectively cut off Bard’s words of protest had he continued, “I am very sneaky and I can accompany him from afar to keep an eye on him if that will suffice enough for you two. If its weapon’s we’re after, then is much easier to talk them out of the Master than attempt to steal them from under his nose.”

A murmur of uninterpretable words came from the dwarves but in the end, everyone agreed that his plan would be for the best. After breakfast, Bilbo and Arden would set out to try and persuade the Master to lend Arden some weapons.

“You’d better not come back in pieces.” Kili whispered to Arden after catching his arm as he left Bard’s house. 

“Of course, darling. I wouldn't dream of it,” Arden said, a little too loudly and with that, the elf and the hobbit left a blushing Kili and a bunch of confused dwarves to their own thoughts. 

The house of the Master was easy to spot over all the others as it stood tall and mighty compared to the rest. Bilbo walked a few paces behind Arden and slipped his ring on any time he worried he might be seen. Arden, however, seemed to be carefree as he walked through the town. Eventually someone pointed, whispers were shared, and Arden was soon swarmed with guards.

“I come from Mirkwood and the high council of elves. I wish to speak to the Master of Lake-town.” he said rather elegantly as he was escorted by guards to the front door of the Master’s living quarters. 

Bilbo managed to slip in after the guards and was immediately greeted with the pungent smell of alcohol. the Master, a badly aged and overweight man greeted them with a sneer.

“Well look what the cats dragged in. who is he, fellas?”

“Uh, don't know, sir. never said his name.” one guard said as he looked at the floor, not meeting the Master’s eyes.

“Well,” the Master paused as he hiccuped slightly, “what’s your name then, elf?”

“I am Oryn, son of Mirendill. I come here seeking weapons form the mighty Master of Lake-town.” Arden lied smoothly. 

“Oryn, huh… and why do you acquire after such things? We have not seen elves in these parts for many years. Why should I help you?” the Master laughed, a deep and disgusting sound. 

“Because my father would surely cut all transport to and from your town if he learned his son was being treated so poorly by the Master himself.” Arden said smugly. Immediately the guards let go of him and bowed, fearful they had offended such a high standing elf. 

“Would he now? I don't recall ever hearing of a Mirendill before.”

Bilbo’s heart sank, this was going rather badly. The elf seemed to have turned up the charm but this master was a foul man and found deception in everything, it seemed.

A snivelling, oily haired man, who stood just beside the Master, whispered something into the Master’s ear that he seemed to agree too as he nodded his head. The man slunk out from behind the Master and left the room. Bilbo was starting to think there was an unspoken plot going on. Oh, if only he could warn Arden!

Arden cleared his throat to gain back the attention of the Master. “My father, Mirendill, has taken over the position of counsellor after the death of one of the senior high elves. He is in charge of all transport between elves and human civilizations. I believe that you make most of your trade with us, do you not? I would hate for that to cease. 

“As would I, but I also hate feeling as though I'm being threatened in my own town. “

“Threatened? Oh no, I would never want to _threaten_ you, kind sir. I am merely looking for weapons for me and my comrades, who are camped out on the borders of your town. We are travelling to destroy the vile orcs that are on their way here. If you would like our protection, I do suggest that you allow me to visit your armoury.”

Bilbo had a sinking feeling in his gut, but a spike of hope found him when the Master spoke.

“I do see your need for weapons. a few of my guards will escort you there.” the Master gestured from some of the guards to lead Arden to the armoury but withheld one of the men. Bilbo was torn between finding out more from the Master and making sure Arden was alright. 

He decided to stay and once again he found his stomach sinking with dread.

“He is not who he says he is,” the Master said quietly to the guard. “If he was truly the son of a high elf, his clothes would not be torn and he would be wearing the clothes of a nobleman, not some common guard-elf. I want to you make an arrest when he is in the armoury, to keep this out of sight from the townspeople. Don't want them thinking there’s any funny stuff goin’ on, of course.”

“Of course, master.” the guard agreed hastily and rushed out the door, Bilbo hot on his heels.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” Bilbo muttered as he followed the guard to the armoury. He followed the guard as fast as his short legs would carry him but just before reaching the armoury he slipped on the frozen wood and tumbled into the freezing water. 

When he got out, gasping at the cold that seemed to rattle him to the bone, he saw that the door to the armoury was heavily guarded and closed. 

“What was that?” a guard asked, but Bilbo had taken off running before he could investigate.

The little hobbit quickly made his way back to Bard’s house, shivering violently and was quite afraid he would tremble so much he would fall off the narrow boardwalk again. 

“Who is it?” the voice belonging to Bard asked when he knocked rapidly on the door of his house.

“B-Bilb-Bilbo B-Baggins!” Bilbo called as he slipped off the ring before the door opened. 

“Bilbo!” The deep voice of Thorin Oakenshield pierced through his sodden and frigid mind. As soon as the King got a good look at the hobbit, his face fell. “You are dripping wet. What happened? He asked quickly pulling freezing layers of clothing off Bilbo and wrapping him in a blanket warmed by the fire. “Where is the elf?”

“He- he was arr-rrested.” Bilbo said through chattering teeth and he basked in the warmth of the blanket and the fire. “I tried to stop them but I-I slipped on-on the ice and fell in-into the lake.”

“He’s been arrested?” came the quiet and worried voice of the youngest dwarf, Kili. “He’s been arrested?” he asked again.

Bilbo only nodded, his teeth chattering too much to speak unless he wanted to bite his own tongue. 

“We must get him out then! Who knows what they’ll do to him!” Kili said loudly, making a rush for the door before Thorin grasped him by the arm and held him back. 

“Kili, don't be a fool. He’s an elf and can take care of himself.”

“But he matters to me! He saved me, right?” Kili sounded exasperated as he tried to wriggle his way out of his uncle’s firm grasp. 

“You have repaid your debt, there is no need for you to throw yourself into trouble to save an elf,” Thorin replied. His grip loosening as Kili stopped trying to tug himself free.

“I can't.” Kili mumbled.

“What?” 

“I can't just let him be taken!” Kili yelled angrily, and Bilbo thought he was almost in tears. 

“Kili, what is going on with you? This is very unlike you,” Fili said, stepping in.

Kili was silent for a moment before he mumbled something under his breath.

“Oh speak up, Kili.” Thorin growled, now rather irritated with his nephew.

“He’s my One!” Kili yelled, and then immediately cured in on himself as if expecting a blow. 

A murmur ran through the dwarves and Thorin stood, looking rather stoic and withheld as he walked away from the young dwarf, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought.

“Um, excuse me… bu-but what does he mean by-by his ‘One’?” Bilbo asked, extremely confused as to why some dwarves were eyeing Kili with such distaste. 

“Ah, well…” and Balin said, starting to explain the whole functionality of soulmates in dwarven culture.

“And why is Kili so upset?” Bilbo whispered as Fili guided Kili away from the rest of the dwarves, and far away from Thorin. 

“Ah, well I'm sure by now you've figured out elves and our kind don't exactly… see eye to eye. It's very unheard of Ones between dwarves and elves. Especially elves. “

“Oh, but surely you’re- you’re not mad. it's not his f-fault who his... One is?”

“I see no need to be mad, but some, especially Thorin, have more reason to hate elvenkind.”

“Oh dear.” Bilbo muttered for what seemed like the thousandth time since the whole adventure had started. 

The day continued on a rather uneventful note. Kili and Fili were more withdrawn and whenever they joined the rest of the company some of the older dwarves scowled more than they already were and moved away from the two young dwarves. 

When finally, in the dead of night and edging on very early morning, Kili slipped out the door of Bard’s house and found his way to the armoury. As a smaller built dwarf, he was able to slip past a few of the guards but a hand shot out and grabbed him from the shadows as he was about to near the armoury.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, a child out of bed?” a slick voice murmured in Kili’s ear. He shivered and tried to pull free but the man had a firm hold on him.

“Not a child, no... a dwarf.” the voice purred sickly, “how wonderful. The guards will be happy to throw you in the with elf we have in the cells, seeing as how much your kind detest them.” Kili could feel the man’s hot breath on his neck as he thrashed, trying to get out of his grip. Suddenly a blinding pain shot through his head and he found himself unable to keep his eyes open as blackness overtook his vision.

 

 

“Kili!”

 

“Kili wake up! Lord, look what they’ve done to you.” 

 

Kili awoke with a pained groan as he felt his head thud painfully with every beat of his heart. 

“Oh Mahal, what happened?” he groaned again as he opened his eyes and was immediately greeted with Arden’s face almost pressed up against his. Kili backed up out of shock and ended up banging the back of his head on the wall behind him. A sudden bolt of pain shot through his head and he hissed, cradling the back of his head. 

“Apologies, are you alright?” Arden fretted, as he moved back slightly, wincing as he moved.

“Yeah, I'm alright. Are you alright? Mahal, you look dreadful.” Kili said as he pressed the back of his hand to Arden’s brightly flushed cheek. “Arden, you’re burning up!” he exclaimed, moving his hand from the elf’s cheek to his forehead. Somehow the burning under his skin intensified.

“Oh, it's just my leg.” As the elf spoke his eyes began to roll back into his head. “Kili, I feel very...” he started but he passed out mid-sentence.

“Arden? Arden! “ Kili yelled, hitting the elf’s cheek to try and bring him back. When that didn't work he began stripping the elf of his lawyers, he fever was too hot and Kili feared that was the reason the elf had lost consciousness. Kili’s knee accidentally shifted Arden’s leg and the elf awoke suddenly with a sharp gasp, unable to catch his breath as he moaned in pure agony. 

His leg. there was definitely something wrong with his leg.

Kili felt all over the elf’s leg, trying to ignore the grunts and whimpers of pain from the now semi-conscious elf. Suddenly he found it, a burning hot patch of bound flesh on the elf’s thigh. Kili tried to unwrap the binding but Arden actually cried out, the pained howl echoing around the small room. 

“Oi!” keep the fighting down in there.” someone said sharply from outside, and for the first time Kili fully realized where he was; a cell. He had been locked up in a cell with his One, who was in the process of dying. 

“This elf, he is badly wounded! He needs medical attention immediately.” Kili cried, feeling the tugging feeling in his heart start to sting as his One continued to fade in and out of consciousness.

“Nice try, dwarf,” a guard spat, “but I won't fall for your tricks. the Master will speak to you in the morning.”

Kili again tried to take off the binding but Arden’s hand shot out and held onto his wrist in a death grip, knuckles going white as he held on. His eyes were glazed over and he looked rather confused.

“Don't. Hurts,” the elf said, each word detached as he tightened his grip on Kili’s wrist. 

“I'm sorry, but I have to see. I can't make it better if you don't let me look,” Kili explained as if he was talking to a young child. Arden weakly shook his head. “Arden, let me help you,” Kili pleaded. 

Arden turned to look away from Kili as he finally nodded, hiding his face so the dwarf couldn't see how much it pained him.

“Dammit,” Kili cursed and let out a few angry words in Khuzdul as he managed to peel the binding off of the wound. 

Kili promptly gagged at the sight of an arrowhead, or at least what he thought was an arrowhead, embedded in the red, inflamed, flesh of the elf. Black and angry red veins spun away from the wound and Kili gagged again as the putrid smell of a festering wound hit his nose. 

“Arden, you absolute fool.”

But then it hit him; Arden had not only stopped the orc from shooting him with the same arrow, but the elf had actually taken the arrow instead of him, a dwarf he didn't even know or might not have ever seen again. 

“Why? Why would you do this for me?” Kili whispered as he looked down in absolute horror at the elf’s leg. 

“Because I felt it, the pulling in my heart.” Arden whispered as he placed a hand over his chest, patting to emphasize his point, his words being interrupted by his ragged breathing. “I felt it when I saw you and I knew; I had to protect you.” 

Kili felt his heart twinge painfully and he had to take a deep breath to keep from wincing. Arden seemed unable to keep up his stoic facade and looked like the epitome of pain. 

“Here, lie down, rest,” he instructed, allowing Arden to rest his head on his lap.

“My mother used to tell me stories when I was sich as a child-” Kili started but stopped when Arden let out a quiet chuckle.

“You still are a child,” Arden added, although it seemed wrong for such teasing words to come out his ashen mouth. 

“No, I am a grown dwarf.” Kili insisted but continued on with his stories of travelling dwarves and great battles until Arden’s eyes closed and did not open for a while. Kili let out a breath of relief as his breaths evened out and he seems somewhat peaceful. Kili tried to find the cleanest part of his shirt, although very little of it would fashion a good bandage, he did try his best. He gingerly tied the makeshift bandage around Arden’s leg and hoped that the wound didn't get much worse while he took a quick rest. 

As his eyes were fluttering shut, Kili felt Arden wrap his surprisingly cold fingers around his own and Kili couldn't help but hold onto the elf’s hand firmly in return. 

 

When he awoke again the pain in his head had almost vanished but it still throbbed when he moved. Arden’s head was still in his lap, the elf’s head edging extremely close to Kili’s nether regions. Almost panicked, Kili tried to push Arden out of his lap as he backed away from the elf. 

Kili felt bad the instant he saw Arden curl up on his side. The elf exhaled sharply as he lay on the ground, hands reaching for his injured leg. when he tried to apply pressure to the wound it caused the elf to tense, then start convulsing. 

As quickly as he could, Kili positioned the elf so he couldn't throw up on himself or choke on his own vomit. Arden heaved and brought up the watery soup the guards had delivered to him before Kili had been brought to the cell, shivering violently. 

unfortunatly, with each heave, pain washed over Arden. Wave after increasingly painful wave of nausea hit him and he feared he would pass out just from the force of the vomiting and the sudden aching all over his body. 

“Steady there.” Kili said as he gently lifted Arden into a sitting position, leaning him against the wall as the elf shivered pitifully. 

“I reckon I look pretty damn- ugh- handsome.” Arden said, trying to swallow down nausea and the vile taste in his mouth.

“Oh, absolutely. I just _love_ my elves with a side of vomit.” 

Arden couldn't help but crack a smile at that before he bent over and vomited again, although nothing came up this time.

The dry heaving carried on for what felt like hours before Arden eventually passed out again, from exhaustion, pain, or potentially both, Kili thought as he watched the elf.

Kili looked around the small cell as Arden slept. The walls were made of rotting wood and metal bars were the only thing separating them from the cold air, as there was no glass on the windows. There was a small bed like structure or at least something that had been a bed at some point, in the corner or the room. 

Kili’s attention was brought back to Arden as the elf started to shiver violently again, curing in on himself to try and get some warmth.

Kili reached down and placed the back of his hand gingerly on the elf’s forehead and found he was warmer than before.

“This won’t do.” he muttered before he gently maneuvered Arden to the floor while he walked over to the once-was-a-bed structure. A tattered blanket full of moth holes was thrown on the floor that smelled a little of mildew but would be better than nothing. 

The cell was only a dozen strides long and Kili didn’t find the space to be that small. To Arden, however, the room must seem quite claustrophobic, as the elf was taller than most of the men in the town. As Kili thought about it, it would have been a feat in and of itself that the guards had been able to get Arden in the cell. The elf, however injured, was headstrong and wouldn’t go without a fight. Kili hadn’t had such a pleasure, as he had been so rudely knocked out beforehand.

Kili tucked the blanket around his sleeping friend and pulled him closer, trying to give him as much warmth as possible. The elf’s breathing had long since been steady, and now came is hitching breaths even in sleep. Kili sometimes feared it would even stop completely, especially when the coughing started. 

The coughing was by far the worst, causing Arden to curl in on himself as his whole body shook. His leg burned and his chest ached as he tried to get air into his lungs.

“I feel like I’ve been trampled by a herd of orcs,” he rasped after another fit of coughing shook him to the core.

“Well, you’re looking pretty good for an elf who’s been trampled,” Kili said, trying to lighten the mood but it still felt suffocating in the small space. Kili felt Arden laugh as he rested against his side, but it turned into a cough as the sound got caught in his throat. The dwarf felt his heart sink into his boots and he was scared that Arden might not ever make it out of the cell if the Master didn’t hurry up.

“You were fine a few days ago, why is it suddenly so bad?” Kili wondered aloud.

“Oh, well. Truthfully… truthfully I thought I would be fine.” Arden said, finding Kili’s hand and holding it tightly. “But as we walked on that trail… I’m sure I would have passed out if Thorin had not let us rest.”

Kili felt angry and sad at the same time. He felt as though he should yell at Arden and run his fingers through his hair. Mahal, he wanted to strangle him. Everyone with common sense knew you didn't leave an arrow would to heal itself, and you especially make sure to inform the healer of such an injury. 

Fili was right, Kili was a fool for even thinking the elf should have let the arrow fly. But even now, seeing what the arrow would have done to him, Kili wished with all his heart that Arden had let the arrow hit him instead.

“Don't do that to yourself,” Arden spoke, his words starting to slow as he spoke. 

Kili looked up from a spot floor, rather shocked, to look at Arden. “What?”

Arden readjusted himself slightly and hissed when his leg throbbed painfully at the movement. “That look. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I’m not.” Kili retorted, feeling frustration bubble up in his chest. Mahal, this elf would be the death of him. 

“Yes you are, I recognize that look. I’ve seen it on many an elf.”

“Oh have you now,” Kili said, feeling venom bleed into his words. His heart ached and he wished he could cease being upset with Arden, but he hadn't said a word the whole journey and now he was dying.

“Of course. My mother wore it for the rest of her life after Oyrn died. I’m certain I wore it for many years as well. Legolas wore it often when he saw my scar.” the elf raised a shaking hand to his face, tracing the jagged scar tissue. “It hurt more to see him like that than the pain of the wound itself.” Arden then looked up to Kili, staring into his eyes and perhaps his soul. “It hurts now, to see you so angry and upset. I’m sorry for burdening you with this.”

With those words Kili felt all his anger a frustration bleed out of his heart. This elf, this elf had endured more than Kili could know, although Kili did know some. He had lost his father and his other uncle when he was just a little dwarf, but he had been young and how he remembered little of his father or his uncle Frerin. But he did recall the shell his mother had been after the news of her husband’s death and Thorin was never the same after Frerin died. 

“You’re not a burden, although it would help if you could walk.” Kili paused for a moment. “Can you walk?” he asked, once again looking down at the elf.

“I believe so,” Arden muttered as he tried to get up off the floor.

Kili stressed the use of tried because elf barely managed to get to his knees, his teeth grinding into each other as he tried and failed to stand. 

“Looks like I'll need to be your crutch again, huh?” Kili said, trying to cover his concern with humour, although it was a sorry attempt at anything related to funny.

“Seems so,” Arden said, looking rather detached from the entire situation. His eyes had started to glaze over again and Kili wondered if they would stay like that for the next while. 

“Hey, you should try and get some rest, to get back some of your strength.” Kili suggested, patting his thigh to let Arden lay down properly.

Without a word, which was rather uncharacteristic for Arden, he did as he was told and lay down and fell asleep almost immediately. 

Kili couldn't tell how much time had passed exactly, around mid-day he guessed, loud, thumping footfalls could be heard approaching their cell. Kili immediately, and as gently as he could, removed Arden’s head from his lap so he could stand. Arden blinked awake and was about to ask what was happening when the jingle of metal and the scratching of a lock being opened assaulted their ears. 

Kili helped Arden pull himself to his feet as the heavy wood door swung open. 

“Enjoy your rest in the cells, lads?” the guard who had opened the door said, trying to belittle the two. 

“It was delightful.” Kili snarled but looked away from the man as Arden began to sink down to the floor, either losing the battle with his consciousness or his legs were just giving out from exhaustion.

“What's wrong with him?” the guard demanded, gesturing towards Arden as Kili tried to hold him steady. It proved to be much more difficult without Fili.

“He’s rather ill, as I told someone last night. Now, unless you want your ‘prisoner’ to fall unconscious right here, right now, I suggest you help me.” Kili said, glaring at the guard who seemed shocked and not at all like the sneering man who had opened the door. 

Between the dwarf and the man, they managed to get Arden down to where the Master awaited them. To Kili’s surprise, he saw all of the dwarves, and Bilbo Baggins waiting for them as well. 

“Kili.” Thorin said at the sight of his nephew, relief washing over him. 

“Thorin.” Kili said in much the same way. 

“Kili!” Fili yelled as he caught sight of his brother. He started forward but Thorin placed a hand on his shoulder and held him back.

“I believe this is who you were lookin’ for,” a man who stood beside the Master said, sneering out from behind the large man. 

“Yes, him and the elf.” Thorin said, his deep voice echoing in the room. 

“Well, well, well. not so much of a high and mightly elf, are you now? Associating with the likes of these dwarves,” the dark and greasy haired man barked with laughter, mocking the elf. Arden barely seemed to notice, his eyes glazed over and distant. Instead, he tightened his grip on Kili’s shoulder to the point there Kili feared the bone would shatter under the elf’s fingers.

The oily haired man spoke to the Master, who hadn't yet said anything. A wide grin found its way onto the Master’s face. Suddenly, with a wave from the Master, guards that had collected behind Kili and Arden grabbed the elf and shoved Kili forcefully towards his uncle and brother.

“I think I’ll keep this one.” the Master said gesturing to Arden, who seemed limp in the hold of the guards as he was brought to stand beside the Master.

“No!” Kili yelled, rushing towards the vile man, reaching to draw his sword from where it should have hung on his belt. It had been taken by the elves and now he had no way to stop him.

“Oh no,” the Master said with vile mockery the dripped from his lips. “Become attached have you? And what will you give me for his return?” he asked, looking past Kili to Thorin and the rest of the company.

“As we discussed, a share of the gold from Erebor.” Thorin ground out between clenched teeth. 

“They are lying, Master.” the greasy haired man said, this time so that the party of dwarves could hear him. His thin lips curled up to reveal his crooked, yellow teeth.

“Oh yes, Alfrid,” the Master sneered, sinking back down into his massive chair to fit his massive size. “Your little adventure to the lonely mountain. Tell me again what you plan to accomplish, dwarf.”

It was then that Dwalin broke. His small amount of restraint shattered as he refused to let this _human_ belittle his friend and King.

“ _dont you dare!_ ” he spat venom with his words as he marched purposely up to the Master. “ _Don't you fuckin’ dare talk to my King that way!_ ” Dwalin continued, shoving aside the guards that rushed to block his path. “This is Thorin!” he shouted, spit flying into the Master’s terrified face, “son on Train, son of Thror! King under the mountain!” the dwarf suddenly became deathly quiet as he drew even closer to the Master, “and you will _never_ speak to him in that way again.” 

The Master, who was pressed up against the back of his chair in pure terror, gave a tiny nod and Dwalin retreated back to the party of dwarves, a few of which were smiling so wide that if they smiled even a little more, their faces would surely split in two. 

“Ah, w-well o-of course.” the Master said, shakily peeling himself off from the back of his chair. “A share of treasure from those great halls would surely bless this town. O-our people are in much need of such generosity.” the Master said, and he reminded Kili of a snivelling rat who had been cornered. 

Kili took a glance around where they stood, and it dawned on him that anything given to the Master that even had ever touched gold remained in his possession. It made him sick thinking of the state of everyone who lived in this town under such corrupt leadership.

Alfrid gestured to the guards who held Arden frantically. They quickly released him, but without any support, the poor elf crumpled to the floor.

“Arden!” Kili cried, rushing forward to try and catch the elf before his head could slam into the wooden flooring. He failed, and Arden gracelessly hit the floor with a thump.

Thorin now let go of Fili and allowed him to run to his brother. 

“Kili! Kili are you alright? Did they hurt you?” Fili fretted as he checked the younger over for new injuries. Kili, meanwhile, only had eyes for the quickly deteriorating elf.

“We need weapons, supplies,” Thorin continued, watching his nephews out of the corner of his eye. “and boat for travel. Will you help us take back Erebor and restore the silver fountains once again?” Thorin knew damn well he was talking only of what the Master wanted to hear. he knew that the man couldn't resist the temptation of wealth. Sill, as much as he believed they would be successful in winning back Erebor, a sliver of fear weaselled its way into his mind.

“Absolutely!” the dastardly man cried, rising out oh his chair with his arms spread wide. “Tomorrow there will be a celebration for the return of King Thorin, King under the mountain!”

As the company, now completed with both Kili and Arden, was escorted to the master’s large house. The dwarves, as much as they all despised the Master, wouldn’t pass up the opportunity of alcohol and somewhat begrudgingly followed Alfrid. Kili and Fili decided that with Arden in such a sorry state, they should probably return to Bard’s house.

Kili has wanted to go on an adventures all of his life, dreaming of accompanying his uncle to Erebor ever since the idea had been voiced at their dinner table one evening when he was only 20 years of age. But now, as he helped carry Arden with the help of Fili, he realized that he might not be able to join them on the treck up to the mountain, not with Arden is such an unstable state.

He couldn’t bear to leave Arden, even to retake the halls of his kin from the clutches of a dragon. But he couldn't bear for Thorin to think of him as a failure to the line of Durin. Fili had nothing to prove, being first in line for the throne after Thorin and having been taught to be king his whole life. But Kili, Kili was nothing compared to a king or a prince. He wasn’t built like many dwarves and preferred a bow over an axe. Hell, his One was an elf! 

Kili felt like he was being torn in two as he helped carry Arden back to Bard’s house.


	4. Blood of Fire

The night at Bard’s house had been fitful and few of the dwarves had slept well. Arden barely slept. Instead, he looked out the window for most of the night. Kili had been unable to sleep after the events of the day and found himself, more often than not, looking at Arden. The elf didn't seem to be aware of his staring, but he mentally cursed at himself whenever he stared too long nonetheless. 

Bard had forced a concoction of herbs down the elf’s throat when they had returned that evening, muttering about his friend’s stupidity the whole time. The herbs had seemed to ease some of the pain but it only took the edge off. Arden’s leg burned and he could barely put pressure on it. He felt entirely useless and almost wished he had drowned in the river instead of having to deal with such agony. His heart tugged in his chest as if being pulled by an invisible string. The elf rubbed his chest, wishing the feeling would stop. It was strange to him, how he had a physical attachment to the dwarf. He was handsome and rather tall for his kind, but a dwarf? Arden was sure he was Legolas’ one and only, but now a dwarf had suddenly shoved his way into Arden’s life and he didn't know what to do. 

Not to say he disliked the headstrong and determined dwarf. He had a quality of recklessness and adventure that radiated off him. Arden could see it in his eyes the wonder he still had compared to his older brother. Kili was an heir to the throne, Arden knew that much. Surely, that meant anything between him and the dwarf was absolutely forbidden… but Arden had never been one for rules and Kili seemed to share that same quality. 

His heart once again throbbed in his chest and he rubbed harder, waning all of this to just go away. The pain in his leg was always growing stronger and he could barely keep a composed face in front the rest of the dwarves. Arden worried about them, heading off to the lonely mountain in the morning was a huge step, and everyone was on edge. Arden knew he wouldn't be joining them, seeing he could barely manage to get up and walk to the toilet without almost passing out from the pain. 

Every time he shut his eyes he relieved his near drowning. somehow, as of late, he had been too exhausted to dream, but now with the throbbing in his chest and the fire in his leg he found it hard to fall asleep. Even when he shut his eyes all he could see was churning water and the rush of the rapids in his ears. But eventually he couldn't keep his eyes open, and the nightmare overtook him. 

He was back in the river a soon as his eyes shut. The water was so cold he couldn't help but gasp. As he opened his mouth all of the air left his body and he was sucked deeper into the water. He tried to swim up, but he no longer knew what way was up anymore. He tumbled along with the water, invisible hands clawing at his chest and suddenly he was enveloped in his own pain. 

Arden awoke with a gasp, now on the floor instead of the chair by the windowsill. 

A few dwarves had stirred awake, probably startled by Arden hitting the floor, and looked over at him but the elf waved them off and pulled himself back into his chair. If it was just Bard he would have asked for help, the man had known him for so long and had long since gained his trust. The dwarves, however, seemed even more reluctant around him now. The grumbled unhappily as they rolled over to try and go back to sleep, although few of them had been sleeping in the first place. 

Arden absently looked over to the bundle of blankets that contained Kili and his brother, only to find himself looking into the young dwarf’s eyes. Arden quickly looked back out to to the stars that had slowly started to disappear with the arrival of the morning sun. 

He heard the soft rustle of blankets and the padding of bare feet against the wood floor but he didn't look away from the window as someone, probably Kili, came to sit beside him.

“You alright?” Kili asked quietly, Arden recognized his voice immediately. 

“Fine.” he gritted out as his a sharp bolt of pain shot up his leg and spread through his whole body. 

He felt Kili’s calloused fingers start to peel his death grip off the wooden armrest of the chair. 

“Here,” Kili said as Arden detached his stiff fingers from the chair and while the dwarf offered the elf his hand. “I’d prefer if you don't break my fingers but you can hold on as tightly as you need.”

And Arden did. He somehow felt calm around Kili, although he felt he shouldn't. He didn’t mind being weak in front of him. The elf allowed himself to grab onto Kili’s hand and hold it tightly in his own, trying not to crush the dwarves hand. 

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” Arden asked, still unable to look at Kili, holding his hand was already enough out of his comfort zone. 

Kili thought long and hard. He was going to say of course at first, but really, he was nervous and anxiety-ridden. He wanted to take back the halls of his fathers before him, yet he was worried about what would be found in the vast chambers of gold. 

“I wish I was, to be truthful. There’s still a dragon in there for all we know.” Kili said quietly as one of the dwarves rolled over in his sleep. Kili joined Arden in looking out the foggy window at the beginnings of a sunrise. 

“Of course,” Arden said, stealing a glance at Kili from the corner of his eye before quickly returning to look at the sky, slowly turning pink and orange as the sun inched higher into the sky. 

They stayed silent for a while and it occurred to Arden that Kili had begun to fall asleep as the dwarf started to list to the side. Arden was quick to put an arm around the smaller to make sure he wouldn't topple over in his sleep. Kili seemed to tense for a moment before fully relaxing into Arden’s side, a content sigh drifting from his lips and he fell into a deep sleep.

Kili awoke to pain gripping his hand, he tried to move his hand but found it trapped. The dwarves eyes flew open as he tried to pull his hand away from whatever was crushing it, only to find it to be Arden. The elf’s eyes were shut tightly and his breathing was quick and shallow. 

“Arden?” Kili whispered, fearful to startle the others. “Arden, wake up.”

But the elf wasn't sleeping, he heard Kili and wanted to reply but the pain that had been his leg seemed to spread and he could feel it pulsating in his chest and stomach. Breathing hurt. Everything hurt. Arden couldn’t even open his mouth to respond to Kili.

“Arden?” Kili asked again, worried.

This time Arden was able to manage a small nod, trying to force his fingers to let go of the dwarf.

“Are you alright?” Kili asked, although he already knew the answer. The elf shook his head as he loosened his grip on Kili’s hand. The dwarf immediately drew his aching limb back to himself, cradling it to his chest. 

“Sorry. I'm sorry.” the elf breathed, so quiet it wasn't even a whisper. 

Kili watched, saddened, as Arden forded his discomfort down, forcing himself back to his emotionless state. “I'm fine,” he said, although he looked very far from fine, despite how hard he tried to look it.

“No, no you're not,” Kili said, carding his fingers through Arden’s messy hair. The elf shut his eyes tightly but said nothing. “It's okay, it’ll be okay,” Kili said, not sure if he was saying it for himself or for Arden. “You’ll be okay. You’ll help us take down Smaug and you can be the first elf to set foot in Erebor for almost a century.” Kili rambled on for a moment, only stopping when a heavy hand rested on his shoulder.

Both elf and dwarf turned to look at Thorin, who was standing over the two. 

“Kili, we need to talk,” Thorin said sternly, glanced quickly over to Arden before pulling his nephew away. Thorin led Kili out onto the balcony just off of the kitchen. The air was cold but it grounded Kili to the moment at hand. 

Thoring looked stoic as ever but something else flashed in his eyes for a moment before he spoke. 

“I hope you aren’t considering staying with the elf,” he said coldly. 

Kili’s mouth hung open for a second “No- what- I-”

“Kili,” His uncle leaned closer and rested his large hand on his shoulder, “you are of the line of Durin. I want you to be there when we open the door.” Thorin moved his hand from Kili’s shoulder to the back of his neck to bring their heads together, a welcome gesture from family members or close friends in dwarvish culture.

“I know, uncle… but Arden-”

“Is a sick elf.” Thorin said sharply, straightening up from the comforting gesture. “I will not have you sit in this town while your kin retake the halls of your great grandfather.” 

“Of course, uncle, but I can't just leave him here. I might never see him again.” Kili pleaded. “I want to help and I don't wish to disappoint you. But it hurts.” Kili said, placing a hand over his heart. “I can’t leave him.”

“You are young and have yet to find your One. He is not your One, Kili.” Thorin said, coldly, turning away from his nephew.

“And what would you know?” Kili yelled at his uncle’s tuned back, anger overtook his mind and he was unable to hold back. “What would you know of how _I_ feel?”

Thorin spun around and for a fleeting second Kili did not recognize his uncle.

“You would abandon your kin, your brother, for this… elf?!” Thorin spat, seething with anger. “The elves have taken everything from our kind since before you were born, but now you will throw away your birthright for some, for some elf!” Thorin once again turned away from Kili, as if he was unable to look at him. “Your mother would be ashamed,” Thorin said calmly, now more terrifying than when he had been yelling. 

Kili felt tears prick at his eyes but he refused to cry in front of his uncle. Instead of sadness, he let anger take its place. He lashed out, as if ready to strike Thorin before his side twinged painfully. Suddenly everything Thorin said crashed over him and he fell to his knees, unable to do anything else. 

Thorin walked around his silently weeping nephew to gather the rest of the dwarves and began preparing for the journey to Erebor. Kili sat, frozen to the spot as tears dripped pitifully from his eyes. He rubbed at them until he felt the raw flesh sting from the cool air. 

Kili walked back into Bard’s house with as much dignity as he could muster. He could feel the stares of the dwarves follow him as he came to stand beside Thorin, grabbing a sword from the table, the weapon so generously supplied by The Master.

“Kili,” Thorin said sternly, no longer as angry but a hint of warning edged his voice.

“I’m coming with you. I want to prove myself.” Kili said, feeling rather detached as his heart throbbed painfully, not ceasing to leave him in peace.

Thorin said nothing, but nodded, a slight smile showed on his lips before he returned to handing out weapons and armour. 

The company of dwarves and hobbit were exiting Bard’s establishment when the man himself ran up the boardwalk to his house.

“You cannot go! You will bring death upon this town,” he yelled as the dwarves moved passed him, seeming to have learned about the true journey of the dwarves.

“You cannot stop us, human,” Thorin growled as he followed Alfrid, who had come forth from the shadows, to the sending off celebration. 

“After all, I have done for you? After all, Arden has done for you? You will only bring dragon fire and ruin to this town. Is that any way to repay us?” he called angrily after the dwarves.

“Now, now, Bard. don't be so quick to blame.” said The Master as he sauntered out to greet the company of dwarves.

“Have you all forgotten those we lost in the fires?” Bard yelled to the crowd of townsfolk who had gathered at the sight of armour-clad dwarves. Many of the elderly men and women shook their heads sadly. “You have no right, no right to enter that mountain,” Bard yelled.

Thorin turned around and strode over to Bard, looking up at him from under angrily furrowed brows, “I have the only right.” he spat, before turning to the gathered townspeople.

“Men and women of Lake-town! I am Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain!” he bellowed “and I have come to restore the wealth that Esgaroth once had! Silver and gold will flow once more and all will prosper in the wealth of the mountain.” 

Cheers and skeptical wipers travelled through the crowd and the humans all nervously looked at each other. 

“Will you not join me in the wealth of the mountain?” Thorin asked aloud, more cheers sounding from the crowd.

“I speak now to The Master of this town, Will you see the prophecy fulfilled? Will you share in the great wealth of our people?”

Everyone stopped to await The Master's reply. A sly grin came over The Master before he replied with a loud and boisterous voice; “it would the greatest honour, King Under the Mountain!” the townspeople cheered, hopeful with the promise of silver and gold.

“Fools!” Bard yelled over the cheers as they slowly fell silent. Man and dwarf stared angrily at each other, seeming to size each other up.

“This dwarf is blinded by the ambition of a mountain-king so driven by greed, he cannot see beyond his own desire!”

“Now, as I recall.” Alfrid said, slinking into the heated conversation, “that it was your ancestor that failed to kill the beast. you should be thankful that these dwarves have blessed us, unless of course, you want all that gold for yourself?” the man sneered, baring his crooked teeth. 

Some people booed as Bard looked around. “Do you not see what they are doing? They are deceiving you!” he yelled but the townsfolk were no longer listening to him. instead, they streamed after the company of dwarves and the hobbit, excited to see their departure.

“Kili!” a voice called out over the cheers and whoops of the townspeople. “Kili!”

Kili looked up as he was just getting in the boat to see a certain tall, brown-haired, pointy-eared elf.

“Arden!” he cried, clambering out of the boat and over to the elf, “what are you doing? You shouldn't be here.”

“I had to see you off if I could not go with you,” Arden said. His skin was pale and Kili could feel the heat radiating off the elf. 

“Arden, you’re really sick. Go back to Bard.”

“I'm fine, I just wanted to see you off,” Arden said once again. 

Kili shot a glance back to the party of dwarves and Bilbo. Thorin scowled from his position at the front of the boat. 

“Arden… I wish I could stay, I’m sorry.”

“It's fine, I'll be right here when you get back,” Arden said with a smile, but his face was quickly falling as his eyes seemed to unfocus. “Kili… Kili I-” the elf was now losing the battle with his strength as he began to sink further down to the ground, now kneeling in front of Kili, one hand holding onto the front of dwarf’s chainmail. 

“Hey, hey!” Kili yelled, trying to get Arden to focus on him but the elf was not unable to hold any of his weight as he listed to the side. 

“Kili. Let the townspeople look after him, we need to be off.” Thorin growled, looking furious. 

“I-I can't. I'm sorry.” Kili stammered, allowing his sword to clatter on to the wooden beck, now fully supporting the elf and cradling him to his chest.

“Then you will remain here, we cannot afford any more delays,” Thorin said, signalling for the other dwarves to push off from the dock.

“Wait!” Fili cried as he too clambered out of the boat. 

“Fili, don’t be a fool,” Thorin said, catching Fili’s arm as he tried to get out of the boat. “You belong with the company.”

“No, I belong with my brother, wherever that may be,” Fili said, yanking himself out of Thorin's grasp and joining Kili at Arden’s side. 

“And I belong with the wounded,” came Oin’s creaking voice as he too climbed out of the boat. 

Thorin groaned. “First Bofur, now my nephews,” he mumbled under his breath. It was true, Bofur hadn't been with the party since they had visited The Master's house. Bilbo cautiously placed his hand on the king’s upper arm, not sure if he should be comforting Thorin or holding him back from physically dragging Kili and Fili into the boat. 

“Fine. say here if you want. Help the wretched elf, if you feel it is more important that your kin and your birthright.” Thorin hissed angrily and the rest of the dwarves pushed off from the dock and started to row away from the town. Cheers and laughter followed the boat as the townspeople all tried to follow the little boat as far as the docks would allow, leaving the three dwarves and the sickly elf by themselves. 

“He needs help,” Kili said, feeling as though he wasn't entirely there on the docks as his uncle rowed away without him to Erebor.

“The Master?” Fili suggested as he helped support Arden as they all made the slow journey to The Master’s grand home.

“Master’s not here,” the man named Alfrid sneered as he creaked open the door, although Kili had watched the grotesque man enter only minutes before the small group had knocked on the heavy doors.

“Please, he needs medicine, anything,” Kili pleaded, but the door was shut in his face.

Suddenly someone shouted at them, and as the four turned towards the sound they were greeted with a very tipsy Bofur. “Hey! Did you miss the boat as well?” then he saw the barely conscious elf that Kili and Fili were supporting. “Oh my, what’s happened?”

Kili cursed in Khuzdul. “He needs a proper elven healer.”

“Where are we to find one of those?” Fili asked as he regained a good grip on Arden’s waist as they continued on their search for a healer.

“Excuse me, miss,” Oin had started but the woman they had approached quickly walked away.

“Sir, if you would be so kind as to-” but yet again the man backed away and refused to talk to the elderly dwarf. 

“How are we supposed to find a healer if we can't talk to anyone?” Fili complained, his breath came out puffs of steam as he spoke.

“Bard might know someone,” Kili muttered and the small party set off to Bard's house.

Arden was still conscious, the pain in his body wouldn't allow him rest. He wasn't even able to pass out because the pain kept pulling him back from the brink of unconsciousness. After he was dragged up the stairs to Bard’s house, he left as though he would never know the feeling of peace in his own body ever again. 

“No, I am done with dwarves,” Bard growled, about to shut his door in their face when Bofur grabbed it and forced it open. 

“Please, no one will help us, Arden is sick.” Bofur turned back to look at the ill elf that Fili and Kili had finished dragging up the stairs. “He’s very sick.”

Without a word, Bard opened the door completely and four dwarves rushed inside. 

“Lay him here.” Bard motioned for Kili and Kili to drag the elf over to a small bed. As gently as they could, Kili and Fili laid Arden down. The elf moaned in pain as his infected leg was jostled. 

“Da? What’s wrong with Arden?” Tilda asked, staying far enough away where she couldn't see much but she edged closer to the ill elf.

“He’s hurt. Tilda, darlin', could you put the big pot on the fire and boil some water for me?” 

The little girl nodded and dashed back to the kitchen with her older sister by her side. The boy, Bain, ran to find more firewood. Fili and Bofur worked on cutting away the binging and other fabric around the wound as Oin rummaged around in his sack of medicines and pastes.

Kili stayed by Arden’s head, one of the elves hands held firmly in his own, his other hand gently pulling the elf’s hair out of his sweaty face.

“Hey, I need you to promise me something,” Kili said softly as the elf strained to keep quiet when Fili touched too close to the wound. 

The elf didn't seem to see Kili but he nodded anyway, gripping the dwarf's hand tightly and Oin started to try and clean the skin around the wound.

“I’m giving you this,” Kili said, trying to distract the elf as Oin dug deeper, trying to clean the exposed gash that encircled the arrowhead. “It's a rune stone. My mother gave it to me.” Kili said pulling out a small, polished precious stone from his pocket. “She made me promise to come back to her, and now I'm passing it on to you, okay?” Kili took the stone and pressed it into Arden's sweaty palm. the elf didn't look at him, too focused on maintaining his breathing. after a moment he nodded and wrapped his shaking fingers around the stone, holding it tightly to his chest.

Kili felt sick as he looked into Arden's clouded eyes. they seemed focused on him, but it was hard to tell. The elf suddenly cried out at Oin began to press a paste made of dried leaves and water into the wound. 

“It's the best I have. sadly I can't tell if it will work on him, as he’s not a dwarf.” Oin sighed. “But we need to get that thing out eventually. I think it might be poisoned,” he said quietly to Fili.

Fili nodded and dipped a rag in cold water and lay it over the wound site, brows furrowed in concentration and worry.

Meanwhile, Kili was still talking to Arden.

“I want you to promise me you'll stay with me, alright? You don't get to go anywhere. If you see any glowing while lights or faces from the past you don't go there. Do you hear me? You turn right back around a come back to me.”

“Of course.” Arden rasped out, “wouldn't dream of leaving you.”

Fili made a pretend gagging noise and Kili looked up, scowling. Immediately Fili returned to a more sombre attitude. “Sorry,” he whispered loudly.

“Damn right,” Kili whispered back.

“We need to bring his fever down,” Bard said sorrowfully. 

“Agreed,” Oin said, then thought for a moment. “What herbs have you got?”

Bard rummaged through his collection of medical herbs again. “Nightshade, Feverfew, Echinacea…” he listed then looked over hopefully at Oin. The old dwarf only shook his head. 

“We can try Echinacea for now, but do you have any Kingsfoil?” the old dwarf asked.

“No, its a weed. We feed it to the pigs.” 

“To the pigs you say?” piped up Bofur, seeming eager to help. “I'll go find some.” Bofur then turned to Arden. “Don't move.” 

The slightly drunken dwarf barreled out the door, almost knocking Tilda over in his haste. 

Unbeknownst to the dwarves, in the days since they had reached lake town, the herd of orcs had been travelling at high speed to Lake-town. Unable to cross the lake, they were forced to go around. As they reached the edge of town, Bolg, the large orc with metal embedded in his skin, signalled for the orcs to climb onto the roofs of the small houses on the outskirts of town.

”Shugi Khozd-shrakhun hum. Nuzdidiz!” [ _The filthy dwarf rats are somewhere here. I can smell them!_ ] he growled as he drew closer to the center of town and the orcs started leaping from building to building, silently crawling over wooden shingles of the small buildings. As they spread out over the town bold caught the scent of something.

“Khozd!” [ _Dwarf!_ ] he bellowed as he spotted a dwarf scurrying around below him. he took in a rasping breath and hissed. _Not Oakenshield_. Bold gestured down towards the dwarf before setting off in search of Oakenshield. 

Bofur was hurriedly trying to find some pigs, any old pigs would do. But no pigs were to be found. He dashed through the town before he heard the faint squealing of livestock. 

“Mahal, finally I've found the bloody things,” he swore as he rushed over to the pig pen. he looked around trying to spot anything that could resemble a weed. 

He was about to give up hope when one pig started to munch loudly and Bofur saw something that definitely looked weedy in its mouth.

“I hope you're Kingsfoil.” Bofur sighed, wrestling the plant out of the pig’s mouth. Just as he was about to start off towards Bard’s house the pigs squealed loudly as a hug and heavy creature dropped from the sky. Startled, Bofur took off running, his boots slipping on the ice-covered wood. The rounded a corner rather sharply and found himself sliding into a wall and clumsily falling over, losing his grip on the Kingsfoil. 

The turned to see a large orc, much bigger than himself, coming towards him.

Bofur had no weapon to defend himself wish but just as he was about to mourn his own life an arrow came flying out of nowhere, killing the orc on his feet. 

Wasting little time, Bofur grabbed the Kingsfoil, dusted it off, and set off once again for Bard’s house. 

When he arrived there was much shouting coming from the door. As he peeked into the house he found that all the other dwarves were defending themselves with whatever they could find from the orcs that had broken in. Apparently, Lake-town had an infestation of sky-orcs.

Sigrid had a stack of plates, which she was throwing at an orc who was trying to grab the smallest child from under the table. Kili had his sword and Fili had managed to beat in the faces of oncoming orcs with his bare fists. 

Bofur gently set down the Kingsfoils before he cracked his knuckles and his heck before leaping at the nearest orc. He managed to wrap his legs around its arms and torso and pulled his hat off his own head and shoved it over the creature’s. Now blind and unable to use its arms, it started to thrash causing Bofur to hit his head on the wall a few times. He hung on and then, at the right time, leaned forward to unbalance the orc and sent it lurching forwards into a wall. The distasteful creature slid down to the floor, unconscious. 

Suddenly in a flurry of silver, knives sailed passed Bofur’s nose to strike an orc that had been rushing at him from behind. Bewildered, burn turned to see two elves had joined the fun. 

One, a she-elf he had seen during his time in the elven prisons, and a strikingly blond elf. They wielded two knives each, both slashing and jabbing at the orcs in perfect, synchronized movements. 

Bofur watched in a daze as the elves worked their way through the orcs. The blond one tuned and froze only for a moment when he saw Arden, struggling to keep an orc away from him. The she-elf compensated for her companion, throwing a dagger at the orc attacking Arden. As it crumpled to the ground Arden cried out in such agony Bofur was sure the orc had stabbed him. 

Bofur heard the creaking of wood above him before, right behind the blond elf, yet another orc fell from the ceiling. 

This time, with all his strength, Arden managed to pull himself out of the bed, gripping the dagger the red-haired she-elf had thrown in his hand. He lunged clumsily at the orc, stabbing it in the neck. His injured leg gave out and he fell to the floor, a bone-chilling scream tearing its way out of his body.

With all the orcs now head and scattered all over the floor, Tilda and Sigrid got out from underneath the table, looking shaken. 

Kili dropped his weapon immediately and rushed over to where Arden lay, shaking in pain. 

“We’re losing him!” Oin yelled as Arden’s eyes completely glazed over and rolled in their sockets. “Bofur, did you get the Kingsfoil?”

“Yes!” Bofur replied, grabbing the plant from where he’d left it. As he was bringing it to Oin the blond elf grabbed it out of his hands and smelled it.

“Athelas,” he said quietly before looking over to Arden who was being transferred to the small bed, groaning as Kili smoothed his hair out of his face.

“Legolas, the orcs are moving. We have to go,” the she-elf said, unfazed by the bodies piled on the floor.

“Go without me, Tauriel. I have a debt I need to replay,” the elf named Legolas said, turning back to the dwarves.

“What are you doing?” Fili asked, ready to fight the elf if he so much as breathed strangely.

“I can try and save him, but he must fight to stay in the world,” Legolas said, gazing down pitifully at the other elf.

The dwarves tried to keep Arden from injuring himself as he thrashed on the bed in agony. Sigrid, Tilda and bain held his arms down well Kili made sure he didn't swallow his own tongue or stop breathing altogether. Bard and Fili held down his legs as Arden howled in pain as Legolas began to remove the arrowhead. 

“The fool knows they poison their arrows. I can't believe he let it get this bad,” Legolas muttered as he used his knife to cut around the site of the wound on Arden’s leg so the barbs on the arrow wouldn't tear him too much. Oin was already beside him with many clean cloths to soak up the blood. Arden whimpered as the knife cut into the angry red skin around the arrowhead. he bit back a scream as Legolas used his knife to loosen the impaled object, causing blood and other disgusting fluids to leak steadily from the lesion. 

“Legolas,” Arden moaned as the elf started to pull on the arrowhead, grimacing as the elf dug his finger in deeper to grasp the embedded tip of the arrow. The elf bit his lip so hard blood trickled down his chin, and he strained against Legolas' unforgiving fingers, trying to escape the pain that coursed through every part of his body.

“Hello again.” Legolas spoke as if the whole situation was a regular affair. 

Arden was about to say something when Legolas pulled the arrowhead out of his leg. Arden yelled out and Kill would have feared about waking the whole town if he were not so preoccupied by his One's state. Tilda covered her ears as the elf cried out, and Arden gripped onto the frame of the bed with such force its creaked and groaned under the pleasure.

“Shh, it's okay, thats the worst of it.” Kili said calmly, trying to block Arden’s view of what Legolas and Oin were doing. 

Tilra fled as soon as the blood started, Bain soon after him. As children they should never have to see that happen in their own bed, but it had to happen. Oin instantly started to apply pressure with to the wound as Legolas instructed Bard on how to grind up the Kingsfoil. Sigrid had to hold Arden's legs down as he tried to rid himself of the preasure on the wound.

Arden opened his mouth to cry out as Oin applied more pressure but the sound caught in his throat as he screamed silently. 

Legolas instructed Oin to remove all but the first layer of cloth. The elf then took the pase Bard and made and rubbed it between his palms, murmuring something in elvish.

Without the restraints on his arms Arden grabed at his chest, holding onto the thin fabric of his shirt that was soaked with sweat, still clutching kili's rune stone. The other hand wildly tried to find Kili’s.

“Ki-” Arden started to say but moaned in agony when Legolas pressed the mixture of herbs onto the cloth, the juices and sap from the plant leaching into his open wound. The elf gasped for air as the pain became too much.

“ _Menno o nin na hon I eliad annen annin, hon leitho o ngurth_ ,” Legolas starts to chant in what Kili guessed is elvish. The blond elf repeats this saying over and over again as Arden began to fall still, panting heavily and staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes.

“He must choose now; if his soul stays in his body, or if it passes on to the next world,” Legolas explained. 

Kili tightened his grip on Arden’s hand, the other one coming up the cradle the feverish elf’s cheek. “Hey, remember that promise,” Kili said soflty and felt relief as Arden's eyes met his. 

“I- I remember” he breathed, trying to smile, but it looked more like a grimace. 

“Good. Now, see that you stick to it.”

“Yes sir.” Arden mumbled before being dragged into unconsciousness.

Everyone relaxed after a moment. Legolas wrapped the leg wound while Fili, Bofur, and Bard worked on removing the orc carcasses from the kitchen and livingspace. Fili kicked one of the larger orcs in the face before he hauled the body to the balcony and threw the putrid creature into the water below.

“Were these the orcs that were tracking you?” Bard asked, slightly out of breath as he dragged the last, and grossly dismembered, body to the balcony.

“I think so, although I didn't recognize any of them.“ replied Fili. 

After the torso and other parts of the last orc were all discarded into the water Bard turned, looking furiously at Legolas.

“You have no right to stand by him now, like this puts everything in the past,” Bard spat, marching up to the tall elf. 

“Da,” Sigrid started cautiously but Bard pushed her back behind him, ignoring her.

“You saved his life, and for that I am thankful. However, I suggest you leave before he wakes.” he growled, eyes flashing a wordless warning. 

Legolas, Kili realized, was the son of the Elven King. The elf who had given Arden that scar, who had banished him from his own home. 

“You left him? After your father abandoned him? You-” now Bard had to hold Kili back as the dwarf looked ready to launch himself at the elf. 

Legolas looked about to respond when a powerful tremor shook the house, making dust fall from the rafters.

“Is it more of those creatures, Da?” Tilda asked as she held onto Sigrid’s dress as if already trying to hide from the possible threat.

“No,” Fili said, rushing to look out the window towards the single mountain that stretched up into the sky, “No, that was a Dragon.”


	5. Secret Stairs and the Brass Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! just a short update because I'm sick. this chapter focuses on our favorie grumpy old men characters; Thorin and Bilbo! hope you enjoy reading this measly little chapter, I swear I'll be up to my 7k word long chapters again soon (I hope)

Bilbo looked back at lake town as it disappeared into the water as the company rowed away, the desperate look Kili had given his uncle seared into his head. The poor boy had looked so torn Bilbo himself felt a twinge in his chest. 

“Look alive, master hobbit,” Thorin said, although it lacked its usual friendly tone, now the dwarven king seemed to only be made of stone. 

Bilbo wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing, as he was dreadful with a paddle and lacked the physical strength to add much to the rowing process. 

The boat ride did not last long and soon the company found themselves trekking up large hills in full armour, a gift from The Master to every dwarf and hobbit. Bilbo found himself secretly shedding parts of the bulky armour as they reached the top of the fourth foothill. The hobbit prided himself on being an expert walker in proper walking clothes, not heavy armour.

Bilbo noticed Ori doing the same, although the dwarf did seem saddened by leaving pieces behind.

As Bilbo had no one to talk to, as Thorin led the party, Bilbo found himself rather down. He figured that the journey to Erebor would be a joyous and exciting event, but now a gloom seemed to hang in the air over the group. 

“It's only for decoration really,” Ori said as he secretly dropped an arm-guard onto the grass.

“Pardon?” Bilbo asked, not having paid attention to the dwarf.

“The armour,” Ori clarified, “it’s decorative, that's why it's heavier. The purpose is to show how wealthy you are compared to actually protecting you, although the designs are stunning.” he said, rubbing his fingers over the pattern on the arm guard before dropping it on the grass.

“Oh really?” the hobbit said, rather intrigued now. “Why would you want something that doesn't protect you?”

“Well,” Ori started and seemed very excited to have someone show an interest in his knowledge. “It's all to do with showing off, really. Most of this stuff is worn by the kings of men. Dwarves know how to craft fashionable but useful armour. Humans prefer things to look extravagant, but that often makes them heavier.” 

“Not to mention its plated in gold, not a very sturdy metal that is,” Nori added

“Aye, and the weight is not distributed properly,” Dori piped up. The other few dwarves nodded in agreement. 

“The weight on the breastplate is enough to topple a full-grown dwarf!”

And suddenly the gloom that had been hovering over the company dissipated and soon everyone was laughing and telling stories and many a time Bilbo heard the dwarves discussing how, once they took back Erebor, they would create the perfect armour to make up for the shoddy protection they had been given. 

“Remember that time Kili-” one dwarf had started, ready to let flow a wonderous and probably rather embarrassing story about the young dwarf when Thorin cut him off.

“We won't talk about him, not when he chose that elf over his own kin,” he growled, not looking over his shoulder as he marched on.

Instantly Bilbo soured. “That elf has a name you know. it’s Arden.”

“Do you see me caring what his name is? He’s an elf and not our kind.” Thorin said, once again not even turning to look at Bilbo.

“Am I also not your kind?” Bilbo asked angrily. Had it never occurred to Thorin that every time he criticized Arden for not being a dwarf it hurt Bilbo as well?

“No, but you are different, a halfling. Perhaps-”

Bilbo had never felt more infuriated in his life! These dwarves, intending well at the best of times, were absolute demons from hell at the worst of it.

“I am a Hobbit, I had hoped you would have caught on by now,” Bilbo said rather rudely. All the manner his mother had taught him seemed to leave his mind as he fought to keep from yelling.

This time Thorin did turn around and Bilbo suddenly wished he hadn't said a thing. The king looked furious but didn't say a word. He glared at Bilbo before turning around again and marching towards the lonely mountain. 

The other dwarves fell silent and it was back to trekking up the every growing hills to the great mountain. 

 

Eventually, after some time, the grassy mounds tuned into rock as the party steadily climbed higher up the mountains. Now all the dwarves except Thorin had abandoned their armour, only keeping the heavy cloaks that protected them from the noonday sun. Bilbo had almost discarded his cloak when the dwarves educated him on the proper ways to climb a mountain.

“It gets colder the further you go up, I wouldn't let go of that,” Nori had commented when Bilbo started to shed his cloak. Now, being higher up on the mountain, Bilbo was glad he had listened to the dwarf, as it was rather cold. 

Suddenly, Thorin stopped and the whole party stumbled to a quick stop behind him, many dwarves bumping into each other with groans of annoyance.

As Bilbo weaselled his way through the mess of dwarves, he gasped as he looked down at an old, abandoned city.

“Ah, the city of Dale.” Balin sighed, looking saddened. “Once a great city, but alas, it fell to the desolation of Smaug.

It occurred to Bilbo, as Thorin started to continue up the mountain, that this was the overlook Gandalf the Grey had mentioned just before the company had entered Mirkwood.

“Thorin! This is the overlook, Gandalf told us to wait-”

Thorin interrupted him. “And do you see him? We cannot wait any longer,” the dwarf said as he turned away from Bilbo.

After an hour or so the dwarves became restless. They had been searching or a way to climb up the mountain for a very long time, and as Bilbo had noticed, dwarves tended not to have very long attention spans. 

“The map says it’s right above us, but where?” 

“Anything, Dori?”

“Nothing over here, Dwalin.”

They all wandered around the base of the colossal statue of a dwarf, seemingly carved out of the side of the mountain, a feat Bilbo couldn't even start to imagine. As he backed away to get a better view of the huge carving, Bilbo noticed a strange pattern that ran up the side of the dwarf’s stone clothing. 

“Thorin?” he called over his shoulder, still looking at the carving. “Could those be used as stairs?”

Thorin stood beside Bilbo to see where he pointed. 

“Keen eyes, Baggins,” Thorin praised him then turned to address the rest of the dwarves. “Seems as though we've found a way up, lads!”

Bilbo couldn't help but smile as Thorin seemed to become himself again. Although the dwarf was often stoic, he did smile and praise his companions. The past few days he had seemed harsher, more aloof and withdrawn from the company. But now as they scaled the torturous stairs, he beamed, as if unable to contain his excitement. 

“You seem cheerful,” Bilbo commented as Thorin helped him onto the next set of stairs. The dwarves had certainly wanted to make this as difficult as possible when they had carved the giant dwarf. 

"Oh,” Thorin said, not trying to look like a composed leader instead of a child giddy with anticipation, although giddy is not a word Bilbo would ever think of using to describe the dwarf.

“No, you have all the right to be happy. You look nicer when you smile.” Bilbo felt as though all eyes rested upon him for a moment before all of the other dwarves went back to scaling the stairs.

“Oh?” Thorin said again, as if trying to figure out how the word 'nice' could be used to describe himself.

“Well, naturally anyone looks nicer when they smile... except orcs. They just look more terrifying when they smile.” Bilbo said quickly. obviously saying that a dwarf looked nice was rather out of the ordinary and was something you didn't say to a king.

“Well, I do suppose orcs are rather grotesque no matter what they do,” Thorin admitted, rubbing his beard with thought. Biblo suddenly found himself wondering how he had managed to keep it looking so immaculate throughout the journey. He’d heard that dwarves were notorious for having rather out of control hair growth, yet Thorin kept his rather short and close shaven. It was a thick beard and had no gaps, thin patches, and was obviously groomed well. The area around his mouth was-

“Bilbo Baggins, I suggest you try and keep up,” Thorin chuckled as he looked down at Bilbo, who had just been standing there as Thorin continued to climb.

“Oh! oh, right, of course,” he faltered, blushing deeply before he started climbing up the stairs again.

When Bilbo finally reached the top he feared his legs had fallen off somewhere along the way. The sun was starting to set as he shakily walked towards the group of dwarves. Thorin was suddenly standing beside him with a huge grin plastered onto his face. ‘

“This must be where to door is,” he said quietly, looking around as if expecting to see a door appear out of nowhere. 

“It's a good thing we left when we did, the sun is setting,” Balin said, looking out at the beautiful view from the large space. 

“The last light of Durin’s day,” Thorin breathed, eyes lighting up with hope.

Once again Bilbo felt a warm feeling in his chest and there was a slight tugging in his chest. Biblo questioned it for a second for before promptly sitting down, his legs needing a rest for a moment.

Bilbo watched as a few of the dwarves tried, but failed, to wait patiently.

“That's it. Too much sitting around.” Dwalin said roughly as he walked over to the stone wall that surrounded the ledge on two sides. He began looking all over the rock for any traces of a door. “If there’s a key, there must be a keyhole” he muttered before using his fingers to try and find any small crevices that could conceal a secret keyhole.

Soon a few other dwarves joined him in their frantic searching as the sun sank in the sky.

“Quickly!” Thorin growled, anxiously pacing as the sun continued to set. 

Just before the sun disappeared a shaft of light struck the stone wall. Instantly Thorin ran over and searched himself for a keyhole. Just as suddenly as it was there, the sun acutely set and they lost the light. 

“No!” Thoring bellowed in anguish and he punched the stone. The brass key clattered to the ground as the king continued to try and force the rock to give up the door’s hiding spot.

“Thorin,” Balin said cautiously, as the dwarf fell still.

Thorin gave the stone one final kick before sinking down to the ground, his head in his hands as he shook. 

Balin glanced over to Bilbo, who had gotten off the ground when Thorin had done the opposite.

Balin gave him a silent nod as he retreated from Thorin’s side, gesturing to the other dwarves to leave the two alone. Dwalin protested at first but eventually followed the rest of the group, leaving the hobbit alone with an angry and upset Thorin Oakenshield.

Bilbo didn't say anything as he sat down beside Thorin. The dwarf still sat facing the rock, but bilo turned so he could lean against its surface. If it could not produce a door at least it could provide some comfort to his aching legs.

They sat for a moment in silence before Thorin finally spoke.

“It was the last light of Durin’s day. It was the last light,” he mumbled, more to himself than Bilbo. “What did I do wrong?” suddenly the dwarf looked over to Bilbo, a strange dampness made his eyes gleam in the aftermath of the setting sun.

“Nothing, Thorin. you did nothing wrong.” Bilbo said calmly, although he figured it might take some time to convince Thorin.

“It was just at the map said,” the dwarf said pitifully, as he held his head in his hands again. “It was all there and then the door-” Thorin’s shoulders shuddered as he took in a stuttering breath, “the door…”

“I know,” Bilbo said, trying to sooth the dwarf. “I know, you tried so hard. But maybe magic doesn't last as long as-” Bilbo was suddenly cut off as Thorin stood hastily.

“No! It wouldn't wear out,” he said sharply, looking around as if he would find some clue to why nothing had happened. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo said uneasily, worried that the dwarf might do something rash in his anger. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin turned to look at the little hobbit, tears in his eyes but, out of sheer force, he did not allow them to fall. He sounded hurt and Bilbo could tell all the dwarf wanted was to be upset.

“You can be sad.” Bilbo said, walking over to Thorin, who only hung shook his head, “yes, Thorin, it's okay, you can be upset. No one will think less of you, especially me.” 

It was almost as if the dwarf had never been allowed to be sad or to cry in front of others. It pained Bilbo when a broken sob wrenched its way out of Thorin and the dwarf turned so that Bilbo couldn't see him.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said soothingly, wrapping his slightly-too-short arms around the dwarf. “I don't care if you cry, it's okay. I promise.”

And as though that was all Thorin had ever needed to hear, the king of the dwarves broke down. Not the ugly crying Bilbo had expected because realistically there must be something the dwarf couldn't do flawlessly, but this was Thorin Oakenshield, a dwarf who could do anything flawlessly.

And so Bilbo held the larger dwarf rather awkwardly, but couldn't find the time to care. Thorin slowly sank down to the ground, his head back in his hands as he shook quietly. 

“Shh, shh, it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.” Bilbo said calmly. He wasn't sure what to do next. He remembered seeing Kili run his hands through Arden’s hair when the elf had fallen out of his chair that morning so Bilbo gave that a shot.

It was a little strange at first. Thorin had such thick hair and Bilbo found it rather hard to run his fingers through it smoothly. Eventually, he fell into a rhythm, gently carding his fingers tough Thorin’s hair. The dwarf king seemed to enjoy it because he never told Bilbo to stop. 

“I shouldn't have done that,” Thorin said eventually. “I'm sorry, Bilbo, for being so weak in front of you, especially when you need someone strong.”

Bilbo scoffed at that, “Thorin, that's absurd.”

The dwarf turned to look at Bilbo, “No I need-”

“No, you don't need to be anything.” the hobbit replied. 

Thorin once again hid his face in his hands causing Bilbo to roll his eyes. He gently grabbed Thorin’s wrists and pulled his hands down, away from his face.

“None of that,” Bilbo said in the authoritative tone he used to get Kili to rest.

Suddenly the moment seemed very intimate, Bilbo and Thorin seeming so close and Bilbo found himself wondering how much space was between their lips. He blushed and let go of Thorin’s wrists and started to look away when Thorin brought his hands up to gently cup Bilbo’s face. 

Bilbo let out an audible squeak as Thorin inched closer. Immediately Thorin let go of Bilbo and sat back, looking a little frightened.

“I'm so sorry,” he apologized. “Mahal, I don't know what came over me- Bilbo-”

But whatever Thorin was about to say was cut off as a beam of light shot into the clearing. Both Bilbo and Thorin followed its gaze, and then the knocking started. 

Both the hobbit and dwarf jumped to see that a large thrush was beating a snail no to the rock. Once, twice, three times.

Thorin and Bilbo looked at each other before they scrambled to find the key. 

“The last light of the moon! The last light of Durin's day!" Bilbo cried as he looked up into the sky to see a moon steadily rising.

“I know master Baggins! Now where is that key?” Thorin called, a wide grin spreading over his face.

“Here!” Bilbo gave the key to Thorin as they watched in awe as a tiny little dent in the stone was illuminated to show- yes! A keyhole!

Thorin rushed forward but didn't turn the key, Instead, he turned to Bilbo. “Call the others. They deserve to see this.”

And so Bilbo did as he dashed back to the staircase.

“Come back! Come back! It’s the light of the moon, the last moon of autumn!” he yelled. Soon a chorus of loud voices answered him and a sudden clamor of dwarves trying to climb the stairs as fast as they could soon followed. 

Bilbo walked back to see Thorin standing in front of were the key protruded from the wall.

“Thorin?” Bilbo asked cautiously, sensing a change of feeling from the dwarf, although, he couldn't place his finger on it.

“Fili should be here.” he said at last. “Kili, Bofur, Frerin, Dis, and Vili… they should all be here.” he finished, sadly gazing at they key. 

“The others beside Kili, Fili, and Bofur… were they traveling with you before they reached Bag-end?” Bilbo asked, rather curious about these other dwarves. Where had they gone? Had they… died?

“No. Dis is my sister. She is back in the blue mountains. Vili… her husband, Kili and Fili’s father, died many years ago when Fili was only twenty...” Thorin exhaled deeply before he spoke again. “Frerin was my brother, he died in a battle just after Kili was born, I doubt he remembers his other uncle now.” 

Oh, Bilbo thought. “I'm sorry.” the hobbit said, trying to picture Thorin and his two other siblings. 

“It's in the past now, yet, I still wish they could have seen this.” Thorin murmured as Bilbo came to stand next to him. The dwarf reached out and wrapped one of his arms around Bilbo's shoulder, perhaps because of what had been said, or perhaps to comfort himself.

“I'm sure they're watching now. Im sure they are proud that you've made it this far.” Bilbo said, trying not to let his surprise show in his voice.

As Thorin looked around the crearing that now contained the rest of the party, he pictured Frerin and Dis standing there, Vili gleefully draped over Dis’ shoulder, all three of them egging him to open the damn door already. 

“Mahal, Thorin, you’re killing me here!”Frerin laughed, gesturing at the door, begging him to go on and open it. 

So, with a sad smile and much anticipation, Thorin tuned the key and the secret door to Erebor was finally opened.


End file.
